International Escapades
by KeJae
Summary: Elizabeth has been abducted, and Neal has been named as the ransom. When the FBI won't hand him over, the CIA does. What follows, are International Escapades. (Another play on the treasure scenario).
1. Chapter 1

**Abduction**

* * *

 **New York City: Burke Townhouse**

Agent Peter Burke stood behind his house with his CI Neal Caffrey. In a moment of lost control, he grabbed the man by his collar and slammed him up against the siding of his home. "He took my wife."

Then with shaking hands and hatred emanating from his eyes, he growled what he couldn't even think any other day. "A part of me could kill you right now." It was Neal's fault. The man had stolen the treasure, and his wife was paying the price. The anger and fear he felt was unleashing something he had never experienced before.

With wide eyes, his consultant didn't tremble under his fingers. He was surprised, but unafraid. "A part of me would let you, but we both know it wouldn't make you feel any better." There was resignation to his voice. Neal knew he had just lost another friend.

"We're done!" Peter hissed so forcefully it caused some spittle to accompany his hot breathe onto Neal's face.

Then to prevent himself from going through with anything, Peter drug Neal back into his home before shoving the consultant towards Jones and Diana. "Put him under house arrest. I don't even want to see him around right now."

* * *

 **New York City: Ellington Mansion**

Pacing the apartment, Neal anxiously awaited the verdict from Washington. What was happening, how would he be allowed to participate?

When his TV turned on, he knew a decision had been made.

Moving to stand at attention before it, he had his legs spread for a base, his shoulders squared, and his hands held behind his back while his focus was entirely on the image of the general.

"You are the ransom, but we don't trust their intentions…" She began to fill him in on the role he was going to play for his new mission. The FBI wasn't going to hand him over, but the CIA was. Once she was finished, he wasn't surprised to hear the knock at his door indicating the arrival of the transport team who would be helping him.

Turning to meet them, he was slightly surprised to see Casey enter alone. "So, you're officially my protection this time."

"Not so much protection, as transport and backup." The colonel corrected. He didn't seem surprised to see him alive again, but enjoyed cuffing him for the show they were putting on for June and the household.

Walking down the stairs as a prisoner, Neal wasn't fazed by the agent's cold demeanor. Instead he told June not to worry, and passed over his Fedora asking her to keep it for him.

Leaving the house for the darkness of the street, he allowed Bryce Larkin a crack glimpse of the world again. He would be free soon, but he couldn't be released just yet. Sliding into the black SUV, he mentally began preparing for what was coming.

* * *

 **New York City: FBI Headquarters**

Sitting at his desk, Peter couldn't get any work done, but he couldn't be at home either. At work he had to stare at his former best friend's desk, to face the seat of the betrayer, but at home he felt the loss of his wife and was faced with the mess caused during her abduction. There was no winning in this for him.

Instead, he alternated between staring out at the city through the large window behind him, trying to work to pass the time, or glaring down at Neal's desk.

Based on his current emotions, it was going to be former consultant. As soon as his wife was home safe, he was ending the agreement and placing Neal back in prison. The man could rot there for all he cared.

Distracted by a commotion in the office below, he was up and out of his chair hurrying for the door before he even realized it. Something was going on.

Finding Hughes, Jones, and Diana in conference, he demanded to know what was happening.

Sharing glances, the three agents weren't thrilled to share the news.

As the boss, Hughes focused on his lead agent. "Peter."

Feeling his heart beat faster than he could bear, Peter both wished and dreaded to hear what was coming.

"We have reports of a plane having left a private strip half an hour ago. It was lost without a trace over the Atlantic." Then he delivered the bad news. "Elizabeth was seen being loaded onto the plane before takeoff."

Supporting Peter as he lost his strength, Jones and Diana guided him into his office.

Regaining a spark of hope, Peter demanded Neal to be brought in, insisted that he could figure something out since he knew Keller.

Exchanging glances again, the agents had more bad news to deliver.

Holding the speaker position, Hughes tried to come up with a way to explain what their sources were saying. "The ransom for her safe return is Neal, handed over to a foreign representative."

"But the FBI doesn't do ransoms?" Peter could sense something was wrong.

"We didn't… the CIA took him and is handing him over. The decision comes from Washington, we are being shut out." Hughes was honest, since he knew Peter wouldn't accept anything less.

Going into shock, Peter didn't react to anything else they said, their words were like babbling water washing over him.

* * *

 **Undisclosed location: Plane over the Atlantic**

Neal sat sipping his water and eating his meal. He was only an hour behind Elizabeth's departure, so he would be able to meet the representative in a timely fashion with a few moments to spare for preparation when he reached the rendezvous point.

"Focus, you are as bad as Chuck when it comes to worrying about your friends." Casey grumbled. He was working strategy with the younger agent as they tried to figure out how to approach the exchange.

"I am focused. I was timing out the exchange in my head." Neal may have been stretching the truth a little, but he had been working through how it would happen.

"Uh-huh." The colonel didn't sound convinced, but he redirected his attention back to their work.

The colonel had a different means of approaching the exchange, but his military strategy meant he was more than capable of making sure the operation went smoothly. His coverage meant Neal didn't need to contribute to the planning much, but mostly needed to be aware of what was going to happen and what would be expected of him.

That freedom to think left plenty of room for his mind to wander through what the situation entailed. Sure, he was being freed to return to the field for the agent he truly was, but it was being kept secret to retain his cover should he be able to return to playing Neal Caffrey. However, whether or not his place would be waiting for him was murky at best, and nonexistent at worst. Peter had made it clear he was finished with their friendship, partnership, and working agreement. Prison was probably all that would await Neal as far as the White Collar Division was concerned. There was a chance, slim, but still a chance Washington would force someone in the FBI to take him in order to complete the purpose behind him playing the role, but would there be any takers who wouldn't do more damage to his cover or the operation?

* * *

 **Unknown Location: Desert**

The plane landed and Elizabeth wasn't sure which part she found more jarring. Was it the plane's rough collision with the runway, or the feeling of terror that came with realizing she wasn't in the United States anymore?

As she tried to swallow her fear and look for a means of escape, she wondered what she would do if she managed to get away from her captors. She had no idea where she was or how to reach out to the FBI even if she managed to get somewhere safe.

Interrupting her thoughts, the man guarding her roughly pinned her down while another man came to help cover her head with a dark sack. Then they bound her hands behind her back and tied them to a rope around her waist before putting another bind around her feet to prevent her from running.

If this was anything like what Neal felt in prison, she would never be able to look at him the same. It was too horrifying for her.

Dragging her along with them by a rope, the men made sure she knew how low they perceived her. She wasn't the wife of an FBI agent here, there was no respect of persons, or even treatment like she was a human. They made her feel more like a wild animal on a leash, an animal possession treated for their financial value, but not as one of great importance.

Shuffling along as best she could, she remembered Peter's training and tried to take note of as much of her surroundings as possible. Although there wasn't much to be gathered through the hood, she noticed that it was day around her based on the light through the material and coming up from below, but either early or late since it wasn't too bright. The heat on the air and dry feeling around her made her think of desert, which matched the sand she trudged through behind her captors. Various languages rumbled around her, but she couldn't understand any of them.

Then her environment changed as she was shoved into the back of a vehicle. It was darker and warmer for the enclosed space, but the smell of sweat, dirt, and other stenches she didn't want to identify were stifling. There was the roar of the engine coming to life followed by its steady noise as it started moving.

Bouncing and shifting about in the open cargo space, she was jostled until she had several bruises and was tiring from the physical effort to either hold herself in place, or trying to protect herself from unseen objects that were moving about as well.

By the time she reached her destination, she was weary with exhaustion and aching from the harsh treatment.

Repeating her trip through the sands, she felt a greater heat and the light had grown brighter, which meant it had been early when she arrived. There was also the noise of orders being shouted, clatter of machinery, and the sounds of animals being kept for various purposes.

Entering another structure, it felt cool like air conditioning and she heard the solid steps of soldiers in boots stomping about the premises. Being guided through the place, she was turned about so many times she lost track of where she was, but based on how much colder it got and the dank musty smell, she assumed they were going down towards a lower level.

Reaching their destination, a door was opened and she was drug through into a room that made her feel like it was close quarters, the light was dim, she shivered from the cold, and the air smelled musty of moist dirt.

She felt the ropes strategically loosened as she was instead being placed in chains with a connection to the wall before the men left clanging a solid door shut and clinking a lock into place. There was no way she could escape by herself!

* * *

Thank you everyone for reading, leaving kudos, reviewing, choosing to favorite, and following :D


	2. Chapter 2

**Exchange**

* * *

 **New York City: FBI White Collar**

Peter was sitting in his office in a daze. The agent was devastated by the loss of his wife and fall of his best friend.

Watching him from where he was leading the team, Hughes couldn't imagine what it felt like to be in Peter's position.

Based on their information and the reports they were gathering, Keller had been involved in the abduction of Elizabeth. Once the job was done, he called Peter to personally alert him to the situation. Then, for whatever reason, he passed her over to a contact for an international organization that transported her to an unknown location after being lost crossing the Atlantic. Following the other side of the information, the organization holding Elizabeth had requested Neal as the ransom for her safe return with conditions stating that he was to be handed over at an international location to a representative of their choosing. The FBI had refused, but June and the agents monitoring her home reported persons of the CIA showing up and taking the consultant off in chains while official records matched the statement that the spooks were handing him over.

Huffing in frustration, Hughes didn't know why the situation rubbed him the wrong way, but there were so many things that didn't make sense to him. Directing the team, they had a lot to figure out.

"Jones, you are going to trace Elizabeth's abduction and investigate everything you can into the situation. Diana, use your Washington contacts. See if you can find anything about where they might be taking her and what their intensions are. If you can use the situation with Caffrey to help, use it. Blake, research the men who took Caffrey and relay what you find to Diana. Price, I want you to trace the treasure and see if this has anything to do with the theft. No one has mentioned it, but we know Neal's reputation is associated with it, and Keller could be targeting it to pay off his debt with the Russians. The rest of you will be working as support in each of these areas. All other cases are off the table, this is priority until we have the situation resolved." Dividing the work out, Hughes gave each member of the team things to research. Then he took the big task himself, the battle with the CIA and Washington.

Returning to his office, he tried to discover what the intent of giving in to the demands were, but he was shut out from all angles.

* * *

 **Unknown Location: Desert Fortress Cell**

Sitting curled into herself, Elizabeth tried to be as small as possible. It afforded a little warmth, but mostly made her feel less vulnerable.

Glancing around in fear, she anticipated a dirty environment infested with rats, but was surprised to find it wasn't so bad. The floor was hard packed with a dusting of sand on the top. Moving up, she saw the old mixture of rocks and mud bricks composing the outer walls with prison bars lining the inner section. Then the ceiling was a mixture of solid wood beams and metal reinforcements to hold up the structure above. Based on the appearance, they were in an old desert building that had been updated with some modern engineering to reinforce it.

The cell itself was comparatively clean which meant the prisoners were released for personal hygiene, and only chained to prevent any thoughts of escape.

Looking around, she realized she wasn't the only prisoner. There was a young man, possibly around Neal's age sitting acrossed from her, and an older man lying further in towards the outside wall.

The older man seemed to be dirty and covered in torn clothing like it had seen rough treatment. His head was hanging so she only saw the graying hair that hung about it.

Focusing on the younger man, she noticed he was also a little dirty, but considering their cell it was to be expected. His hair was blond and hanging a little long down his forehead while his beard was short enough to be scruff indicating he hadn't been a prisoner long. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt with the appearance of a tourist.

Noticing her looking at him, the younger man whispered to her. "What did you do to get stuck in this hole?"

"I was kidnapped, but I don't know why for sure. Either because my husband is an FBI agent, or because his CI is believed to have stolen a Nazi treasure." She whispered back matching his level of speech. "What about you?"

"Wrong place and wrong time. I was being a tourist and taking pictures on vacation when I stumbled into this lot. They captured me and brought me back here where I've been ever since." He answered.

"What about him?" Elizabeth nodded towards the older man to the side.

Shrugging, her companion tried not to rattle his chains. "I don't know, he was here when I arrived. They take him away and torture him from time to time, so I'd say he's some kind of enemy."

Afraid, Elizabeth wondered what kind of treatment she could expect. "Ha…Have they, have they tortured you?"

"No…. not yet anyway." The answer wasn't reassuring.

"My husband will find us. His team is the best the FBI has." She tried to bolster both their moods with her confidence.

"I won't take your word until I see them opening that door. I've been here a few weeks and haven't even heard of the government making attempts at rescue. Their talk…" nodding to indicate their captors "…seems to be about having a strong army and impenetrable fortresses backed by dangerous weapons… it sounds like the government would have to go to war to retrieve us." The young man wasn't optimistic.

Trying to be strong, Elizabeth believed her husband and the team would find a way. Peter and Neal were great at sharpening each other until they found a way to do the impossible. "My name is Elizabeth Burke, what is your name?"

"Michael Barnes." He answered blandly. There was no story to his identity, he wasn't anyone special. "And before you do, don't ask me his. The old man hasn't said a word to me."

With a beginning of understanding her position, Elizabeth hoped her husband would send the Calvary soon.

* * *

 **Undisclosed Location: Rendezvous Point**

Arriving at the location, Neal stood in his role. He was to be the nonviolent criminal, unfamiliar with weapons and combat, and hopeless with technology. It wasn't time to allow Bryce freedom; he had to wait a little longer.

He knew he was going to be exchanged for Elizabeth, but had no hope that she would actually be released as agreed upon, no matter how the enemy stated their promise. Instead, he was counting on the opportunity to rescue her himself. His mission was to infiltrate, rescue the hostage, and decimate the enemy forces. In short, he was to remove any threat this organization could possibly pose, to take them to their knees, and then let other enemies do the rest.

Watching as the sands blew in whirling dances acrossed the dunes, he seemed to be ignoring the abandoned city he was standing in the middle of. It was all modern ruins and debris so nothing of too much interest.

Seeing the debris shift faster and watching as the wind kicked up behind him, he didn't need Casey's elbow in his ribs to know the exchange was about to begin.

Waiting until the wind had died down and the dust had settled before he turned around, Neal did his best to keep his vision clear and his appearance as neat as possible. Plastering a cocky expression on his face, he pretended to be intimidated by the pomp and show of the weapons the enemy were presenting.

They had arrived with full military gear, an entourage of tanks, and a helicopter transporting the leaders for a speedy get away. It was a show of their strength meant to be intimidating.

Hearing Casey snort beside him, Neal agreed. The army was dangerous, but they were in over their heads. Even though the government came off as passive and seemed to be trying to keep the peace, it was only a show to gain their entrance into the heart of the matter. Then they would unleash their own kind of destruction and show the real balance of power.

Going through the hand off was only a show, and it was no surprise to anyone when their foes opened fire and took Neal by force. Really, it was all a part of the plan.

* * *

 **Undisclosed Location: Desert Fortress**

As he was being placed on the helicopter, Neal questioned his captors pretending to be taken off guard. "What happened to exchanging me for Mrs. Burke?" He tried to shout over the noise of the engine and whirling blades.

The guard beside him hit him to the floor showing no intention to answer his question. Instead, he used the opportunity for a show of power by knocking Neal down. It began the treatment indicating his position in the organization. Neal was a tool, a criminal they intended to use for his talents until he was no longer valuable. In the meanwhile, he was to be treated well enough to keep him around, but he wasn't valuable enough to be treated nicely.

After that, he spent the rest of the helicopter ride on the floor getting kicked from time to time as people 'shifted position' or being used as a footrest if someone felt the need for one. It was humiliating, but worth it for his intent. Being on the ground and shifting in response to their treatment, he was able to see and evaluate those of his captors present. He had faces, weapons, and their conversation as a beginning of his inside information.

When the helicopter landed, the leaders exited the space while the guard who had hit him worked with a few other men to bind him and shove a hood over his head. Then he was shuffled through the sand to a vehicle where he was thrown into the back.

Ignoring the stench, he listened to the sounds in the front of the vehicle, tried to understand what was being said, paid attention to the condition of the terrain they were passing over, and attempted to monitor time for at least an idea of where he was.

Eventually, the day was turning towards evening and he was being unloaded at their destination.

As they walked him into the fortress, Neal listened to his environment and attempted to get a count of the numbers he was going against. There were a lot of people around, but not so many that he couldn't work something out. Unleashing Bryce would make the situation easier.

Entering into the building, Neal mentally began drawing a map. He followed each twist and turn while counting the steps in between.

Stopping at a door, the guard to his right knocked, stated his purpose, and waited until the door was opened. Then Neal was handed over to the persons inside.

His hood was yanked off as the guards shut the door behind him allowing him to look around. The men waiting for him weren't army, those were around, but not the main people in the room. It was scientist and leaders that were looking back at him.

"Take a seat Mr. Caffrey. We have work for you." One of the scientists gestured towards a seat.

Getting the business end of a gun poked into his back, Neal stepped away from the barrel and moved toward the seat. Despite his binds, he tugged his suit into a better position to fix his appearance and sat down. "And what work is that?" He wore a charming expression similar to a business man waiting for a good deal.

"We are going to use your skills to accomplish our goals, and you will do as we say without question." The ranking person in the room stated. He wasn't wearing military clothes. Instead he was dressed in an even fancier suit than Neal. Everything about him spoke of wealth and power. This was obviously one of the higher leaders, probably the highest ranking person in the building.

"And if I don't, then what?" Neal questioned. He needed to know what their plans were for him so he knew how to work around them.

"Or else your friend's wife will pay the price." The man grinned with malicious pride.

"The last I heard, Keller had taken her and I was to be exchanged for her freedom. You didn't pass her to the agents, so who's to say you even have her in the first place? What if Keller still has her back in the States while you are bluffing because you want my services?" Neal refused to give up easily. It was a calculated risk. They might hurt her for his questions, but if he was lucky, they were only looking to warn him.

Snapping his fingers, the man spoke to his men in their native tongue.

Within a few moments, the lights were turned out in their room, and on in what appeared to be another room on the other side of a two way mirror.

Shifting to look, Neal saw Elizabeth gagged and bound to the chair. She looked terrified, but was striving to hide the extent of her fear. Her hair was disheveled, her clothes were wrinkled from the time spent in captivity, and her face showed the marks of having cried. However, her eyes were looking about and she seemed to be listening for information.

Peter would be proud, Neal thought to himself. He knew the agent had invested a great deal of time training his wife on ways to keep safe and how to handle situations should she ever find herself in danger. 'Hold on, El. I will get you home.' It was a promise he meant to keep, whether she and Peter ever knew he had made it or not.

The lights switched and Neal was relived. They had only proven their possession of her, and had not done anything to her other than scare her.

"Now do you believe me?" The leader had an amused ring to his tone. He was enjoying threatening her and toying with Neal.

"I do." Neal kept it simple. He wasn't going to remain here for long, and this man was going to regret toying with him before he was done.

* * *

Thank you everyone for reading, leaving kudos, commenting/reviewing, following, and choosing to favorite my stories and I :D

Have a Merry Christmas!


	3. Chapter 3

**Three Days**

* * *

 **New York City: FBI White Collar**

Sitting around the office, the team waited for Hughes to deliver the good news that Elizabeth was free. Waiting to either side of Peter, Jones and Diana worked with the rest of the team to keep a steady stream of noise. Whether Peter chose to participate or let it be a distraction was up to him.

Walking out of his office, Hughes didn't have to say a word. The entire team knew by his demeanor that the operation hadn't been successful.

Standing on the landing, he asked Peter to come up to his office.

"Just say it, Hughes. We all know the basics." Peter almost whispered, but his words were easily heard in the silence.

Clearing his throat, Hughes complied with the request. "The short of it is that the representatives opened fire with military grade artillery. Caffrey was last seen being used as a foot rest on the helicopter. There is no indication they ever intended to release Elizabeth."

The office was silent. No word of condolence or diversion could cover the pain Peter was feeling. Instead, Jones and Diana put their arms around Peter as the tears ran down his face. They held him as he shook in grief. Hugging him, there was no way to keep his deep sorrow and anger from turning into depression.

* * *

 **Unknown Location: Desert Fortress Cell**

Being chained back into her cell, Elizabeth tried to organize what she had gathered from her trip upstairs.

One, she was not going to be sent back to the states any time soon. She was being held for some reason, and she could guess why.

They had tied her to a chair in a room with what she assumed to be a two way mirror. Since the lights were turned on and then back off, she assumed she was being used to manipulate the person on the other side of the glass. The lights were turned on to reveal that they had her, but then turned off to hide her continued presence in the room.

Two, the person was someone with skills and intelligence they wanted to use. The smartest person for criminal agendas she could think of was Neal. They must have attempted some kind of exchange, but instead of releasing her, they chose to keep her as leverage against him.

Three, that meant Peter was in New York hurt and alone. He didn't have her, and he didn't have Neal. Sure, the team had his back and they would still find a way to handle the situations, but Peter would be hurting more than they could help him with.

The tears started running down her face as she imagined him either sitting at home or in his office angry at Neal and missing her. There was no way this situation wasn't going to leave a mark.

"So much for your theory of rescue." Michael commented from his side of the cell. He didn't have hope, and he had never believed her hope would pan out.

"I'm actually upset for my husband. His consultant and best friend appears to be here, I'm here, and that means my husband is working without his usual support." Wiping her eyes, she tried to pull her emotions together. Crying wasn't doing any good, and was probably doing more harm to the morale of their little cell than anything. "If anyone can find a way of working from the inside of a criminal organization, it's Neal. Combined with my husband's team on the outside, and they have all the bases covered." Improving her own mood, it got easier to add strength to her words. "Something should be happening soon, even if it takes him a few days to figure it out. Just you wait and see."

Snorting, Michael still didn't believe her, but he had to hand it to her. "At least you believe that pile of stuff. Go ahead, make yourself feel better, but nothing is going to happen."

* * *

 **Unknown Location: Desert Fortress**

Neal was still holding to his role. He was the non violent con who had no idea how to run the massive technological infrastructure of their organization, so they didn't guard him as heavily as they should have. There was a computer lock on his door, no guard, and he was allowed to keep his phone… big mistake.

Taking advantage of his relative freedom, Neal was easily able to use his phone to hack the lock on his room, and the paperclip under his collar to open any manual locks. Add in the supply closet for uniforms, papers, and other materials, and the fortress was his playground.

Neal used his personal time, or the time he was allegedly locked in his cell of a room, to learn the layout of the compound. It was fairly basic with barracks along the wall, the training grounds outside, animals were stabled outback either to help with the work or to provide food for the military stationed on the premises, and then there was the main building. This was composed of the cells in the basement, torture and interrogation chambers, offices ranging from general communications to the ranking personnel, and command centers working to connect the organization into one enemy.

The best area to gather information was the chow line. It wasn't formal enough to be called a cafeteria or anything, but it was a mingling place where nearly all ranks blended and conversed with each other a couple times a day.

Borrowing uniforms and mingling, Neal had gathered many snippets of information. One soldier had just been sent with supplies from the main base in Europe, another soldier was being sent to an outpost in Asia with the next weapons delivery, and yet a third had been to other locations in the past such as a major base in South America. Soldiers such as these liked to compare the food, layout, routines, and more for the varied bases the organization had spread acrossed the globe. To add the cherry on top, Neal was even able to learn locations for these other threats. With that information, he just needed a means of transportation, a uniform, and some forged papers to infiltrate nearly any part of the organization he wanted to.

Meals weren't the only successful part of his information gathering though.

During a few of his excursions, he often dressed like a guard and wondered his way down to the prison cells. There he identified each of the prisoners. He had known that Elizabeth was being held as leverage against him, but the others weren't expected… especially not the third one.

When Neal rattled the cell door to get reactions from the prisoners, Elizabeth and Michael had easily glanced in his direction to discover the reason for the different behavior. However, the third had barely moved enough for his face to be seen, and even then Neal wouldn't have believed his identity if he hadn't seen it for himself. Holding to his disguise, Neal hollered at them in a language they didn't understand, allegedly ordering them to be quiet. However, had any of them understood, they would have heard the promise to rescue them.

Gathering information from the guards and listening to whispered conversations of the prisoners, he managed to learn that Michael had been taking pictures when he wandered into the wrong place at the wrong time. While the third had been collected from old allies on the promise he would prove valuable to their agenda, but they hadn't been able to torture anything out of him despite his prolonged captivity.

Relieved that his disguise still held for him, Neal used it often to keep tabs on the prisoners. He made sure they were safe and well taken care of to the best of his abilities.

He knew the strengths and weaknesses of the organization. It was nearing the time for him to release Bryce, and to make his move.

* * *

 **New York City: FBI White Collar**

June was the first of Neal's friends to visit the FBI in his defense.

She had walked into the office and asked if there was anything being done to retrieve Neal.

"No, he was handed over to the enemy by the CIA. We've been completely shut out of the operation." Diana stated matter of fact. She wasn't one to dance around the truth, and June deserved to know what was going on.

"I hope someone does something to bring him home." June had worried.

"Why? Wasn't this an escape attempt?" Peter muttered angrily from where he was pouring himself coffee. Despite the efforts to send him home, he was practically living in his office and utilizing the showers in the locker room. At best, the team would persuade him to go home long enough to change before he was right back shaking from walking through his home and reliving the memories it contained. The trip where he had cleaned up the mess from his wife's abduction had been the worst.

"Neal gave me his Fedora with the request to keep it for him until he could return. I was there when they took him, and he had full intentions of coming home." June straightened her back to defend her friend, but softened as she saw Peter heading back to his office. The agent looked tired with dark circles under his eyes and red rims from the strain of everything he was putting himself through. Even his clothes were relaxed with his jacket on the back of his chair and the sleeves rolled up for comfort. "I know you want to be angry at someone, but it isn't Neal's fault."

Barking at his agent, Hughes prevented Peter from blowing up and sent him back to his office. Walking down the stairs, the senior agent tried to smooth the situation over before it got any worse. "I apologize, Mrs. Ellington. There are theories about Neal using this as an escape to retrieve the treasure, the possibility of him genuinely looking to help Mrs. Burke, or something else we don't know about. However, we have no up to date information as to what is going on with the operation."

"Then I will forward the task he gave me. Take care of his Fedora until he can come home for it." June passed the hat to Hughes before taking her leave of the agents. She could tell that most felt it was an escape bid, even if they had their doubts.

After watching the woman leave, Hughes passed the hat onto Jones before returning to his office.

Jones took it and gently turned it in his hand while he considered what to do. Then he knew exactly how to treat it. Walking over to the space behind Neal's desk, he hung it on the hat rack where it often was when life was normal.

Turning back towards Diana's frown, he shrugged. "If Neal really is innocent of stealing the treasure and genuinely trying to help Mrs. Burke, then the least we can do is hang his hat up for him."

Agreeing, the team didn't throw too much of a fuss, and Peter was already glaring at the desk so the hat was just another thing to direct his anger and emotions at.

A few days later the team was more surprised to see Mozzie come sneaking off of the elevator with Sara. They were questioning after the situation with Neal having heard rumors of what was going on. Mozzie was even worried about his friend's disappearance enough to risk the clutches of the man to find answers for himself.

"Don't, Mozzie. Just… don't." Peter's voice was full of anger and almost sounded in hatred as the little man tried to defend their friend's innocence. He was tired and quick to flare in furry.

"You can lock me up, torture me, and try to use mind control to rip the means of Neal stealing the treasure from my brain, but you won't get anything, because Neal didn't steal it, and neither did I." Mozzie held his ground in front of the irate FBI agent, something that had the entire office coming to a standstill. "Neal was with you and or Sara the entire time from learning the treasure was real to when it exploded. He didn't do anything in your presence, and do you think Sara allowed him to leave her presence?"

"Doesn't mean he didn't have someone else do it for him." Peter continued to reject all of Mozzie's appeals for reason.

"Barring the improbability of that, would Neal really withhold it with a friend in danger? The same Neal who risked his life with Wilkes for a stranger?" Mozzie continued to deal painful blows. "If they gave him the chance to give anything, including his life, he would give it for Elizabeth."

Peter still stood furiously, but he had to give pause. The words 'a part of me would let you' rang through his brain and he knew Neal would give his life if given the chance.

"He's right, Peter. And although I didn't tell you certain parts of our time together, I was with Neal until we met up with you the next morning. He has taken your anger, your accusations, and the treatment everyone has been reacting with in response to the belief in his guilt." Sara held her ground. She knew Peter being angry at Neal wasn't going to help. They needed him thinking through ways to find the con man and Elizabeth, and no one could find Neal like Peter could.

"Why are you here, Sara?" Peter almost growled. He was losing anger but was still unable to let go yet.

"Because I hear you are holed up here in your office blaming Neal for a series of things he didn't do. I know you are upset, but this isn't how to handle the situation." She stood with Jones and Diana trying to calm the irate agent.

Before Peter could find a means to argue, another person entered the office. He was tall with short curly hair, and dressed in a nice black suit. Everything about him screamed spook, and the entire office turned to pay attention to him. Was the CIA finally sending a representative to them?

Pausing to poke around Neal's desk, the man didn't seem to be paying them much attention at first, but the silence made him look up. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Who are you?" Peter forewent pleasantries. He wanted answers.

"Agent Charles Carmichael, CIA." When he noticed the entire room's change in demeanor, he shrugged. "I was called from California in case our guys have any trouble over there. Whoever is in the field, I'm the replacement if anything happens to them."

"You don't know what is going on?" Hughes had moved out in response to the disturbance, but he didn't believe the agent's comments.

"Not yet." Chuck glanced at the first desk as a feeling of familiarity struck him again. "But I'm going to be researching to find out."

* * *

Thank you everyone for reading, reviewing/commenting, leaving kudos, choosing to favorite, and following my stories and I :D

Have a Happy New Year!


	4. Chapter 4

**Rescue**

* * *

 **New York City: FBI White Collar**

Since Carmichael didn't know what was going on with the situation, Hughes called in favors to get help from Ruiz and Rice. The two agents weren't hard to persuade since the wife of an agent had been taken, but their people didn't play with his team very well.

Instead, Hughes had to assign Ruiz's people to research with Blake's and Price's groups. They were following the treasure and organized crime angles to discover the motivation behind the abductions of Elizabeth and Neal. Rice's team worked with Jones' and Diana's groups to see what could be traced on the abduction angle focusing on transportation, destination, and any other means they could utilize to assist in the search.

They weren't making much progress due to the black out the CIA had cloaked the operation with, but at least they felt better for the masses of people who were trying.

Meanwhile, Chuck sat acrossed the room in the first desk and researched on his lap top. He seemed to be absorbed in his own little world as he used his resources. The FBI kept their distance and marked him with the rest of the CIA, he was the enemy in their presence.

* * *

 **Unknown Location: Desert Fortress**

It was time to release Bryce, as soon as he had the opportunity.

Neal got ready after the soldier woke him up for a meeting with the leaders. He had a few minutes to prepare before he was drug through the halls to the room he was frequently interrogated at.

Strapping him into the seat, the guard made sure he couldn't move while the boss paced behind him.

When the task was complete, the boss began his questions grilling Neal for information on the criminal underground, skills and equipment necessary for certain operations, and so on to assist in their plans. Based on what they were asking, the organization was planning a strike on something government.

Biding his time, Neal waited through their questioning until they had their answers. Then he was returned to his cell until needed again with the reminder that Mrs. Burke would be hurt if he tried anything.

Slipping away as soon as he was left alone, Bryce entered the main control room for the building. He had moved around various places during the previous days, so he knew exactly where he was going.

Remaining in his suit and pretending to observe the personnel moving about the space, he acted like a superior and put his back to a main access point. Moving like he was standing out of their way, he was actually using a cord to attach his phone to their system. Then he tapped out the commands to upload a worm without anyone being the wiser. Knowing the butterfly effect, Bryce had set a seemingly innocent command into motion. Now he had limited time before everything would start happening. Keeping to his role, Bryce barked out a few commands for improvement before leaving the personnel to their duties.

Taking a stroll through the compound, he climbed up behind the barracks and slipped a chemical compound into the air system. It was made from a few basic products he had scrounged up from around the base, but it would be powerful enough to put anyone in there to sleep reducing the numbers he had to face. Repeating that at the air vents to the offices, he was able to remove a great deal of the opponents.

The problem was when the guards on the walls got suspicious and began to fire upon him before he could tamper with any other ventilation systems.

Dashing for cover, Bryce was showered with bullets barely missing him. It was taking all of his evasive abilities, and it was still close enough to put several holes in his clothes with grazes over his body.

Reaching cover, Bryce began crashing the communication systems and various parts of their control rooms to both cripple the base, and to cause distractions. This was only the beginning, but the system had started a shutdown of the organizations communication and weapons systems globally. He needed to visit a few of the other key bases to make it stick, but this was the official reason for his presence.

Utilizing a brief moment while he waited for a hallway to clear, he stripped his suit off and changed into a more military uniform with army camo pants, a plain shirt, and a hat with protective material hanging off to cover his head. Pulling out a pair of sunglasses, he hid enough of his face and person to prevent being recognized while he rescued the prisoners.

Hearing the noise of soldiers receding into the distance, Bryce stormed down the hallway into the prison cells. Shouting orders, he overrode the guards with angry boss and sent them away to assist with the situation upstairs.

As soon as it went quiet, he opened the cell door and began opening the chains on the prisoners.

"Neal?" Elizabeth questioned. She had been waiting for something to happen and thought it was coming to fruition.

"You can call me Anderson." Anderson said with a deep voice and an accent. It wasn't his real or legal name, but it was one that wouldn't be recognized by the two civilians he was rescuing.

"Where is Neal?" Elizabeth pushed. "Isn't he being held here too?"

"My mission is to rescue you three and decimate this lot." Anderson answered shortly. He didn't want to get a conversational reputation with them as that would make it harder to keep his cover. Instead, he opted for cold and focused agent. "We don't have long, so move outside of the cell with your friend here." He directed the two healthy prisoners while he lifted the third onto his shoulders. Relieved that the shorter man was comparatively light and complacent, otherwise it would have been harder to maneuver while carrying him.

Moving to the lead of their group, he began the process of guiding them towards the exit upstairs while setting off more computer problems that kept the focus of their opponents. Escaping prisoners was of secondary importance to their entire infrastructure crumbling.

* * *

 **Unknown Location: Desert Fortress**

Following this stranger through the hallways, Elizabeth couldn't help but worry about Neal. Had he been taken, or had she been being shown to someone in the leadership of the organization that held her?

Seeing a pile of material in a side hallway, she thought it was a suit but couldn't see it close enough to tell. Then their guide caught the sound of approaching footsteps so he pushed her close enough to see what looked like a familiar suit piled just into a nook in the hallway. Shoving the nearest item into her pocket, she only glanced closely enough to realize it was a nice tie.

With the soldiers diverting down another hallway towards something related to the computers, Anderson led them back into the hallway leading up.

Passing a room, he ducked back to take a second look. "So, that is where that got off to." He opened the door revealing piles of Nazi marked crates and open loot.

"Is that the Nazi treasure from the submarine?" Elizabeth questioned. "Did Neal take it after all?"

"It would appear to be." The agent clicked a beacon on and threw it into the room. "The Russians will appreciate having their treasure back."

Then he led them further along getting ever closer to escape.

Turning a corner, Anderson jumped backwards quickly to dodge the attack of a soldier. Before he could prevent it, the man called for assistance from nearby reinforcements.

Sliding the man on his shoulders to the floor, Anderson engaged the soldiers into combat before they could call too many people to their aid. With a great deal of speed and skill at multi opponent combat, he managed to knock them unconscious clearing their path again.

Since there wasn't time to clear them away, he picked the unconscious man back up and hurried the hostages after him until they reached the exit to the building.

"This could be used as a kill box, so we have to proceed carefully." He began checking the environment to ensure it was still safe enough to slip out.

Reassured, he slung the unconscious man onto his shoulders better, added a bag over his other shoulder, and walked out the door with a gun in hand. Shooting at various targets as he went, he created explosions and destroyed weapons that could be used against them.

Then he walked them out the side gate while the men around them were otherwise occupied.

* * *

 **New York City: FBI White Collar**

Peter was grumpily complaining about Chuck's presence in the office. He was angrier with it than anyone else, with reason. Chuck was the representation of the people who had assisted his consultant in escaping with a treasure instead of rescuing his wife back home safely.

Closing his computer, Chuck wasn't going to let the situation go on any longer without saying something. "Do you want to see the information I can share?"

Freezing, Peter turned to him, "Does that have anything to do with my wife?"

"Not yet, but it answers the questions pertaining to the treasure." Chuck knew there wasn't anything clearance related to it, and he had gotten permission to share information to help appease the situation between the agencies. It wasn't what the FBI wanted, but it was a start without risking a compromise to the operation.

"Set it up in the conference room. We can at least get that settled." Hughes ordered.

Nodding, Chuck picked up his computer and moved as directed.

Behind him, the team whispered their theories and wondered what evidence the stranger could have turned up. Then when he was ready, several followed for the viewing while the rest went back to their work.

Sitting in the seat beside Peter, Chuck waited until everyone was ready before he began playing the satellite clips.

Watching, everyone saw as someone entered a storage unit to clear it out, transported the art supplies to a warehouse, where they switched it out with the buildings contents. It wasn't enough to satisfy them until Chuck used systems to zoom the image in closer, to reveal Keller. Then he explained the evidence officially clearing Neal's name of the treasure theft and laying the blame on the appropriate culprit.

Deflated, Peter hung his head knowing he had unjustly accused his partner. He had blamed, pushed, and threatened his friend… for nothing. The memories flashed through his head as he yelled at Neal the day of the explosion, the four am lie detector test, the tie souvenir, and worst of all, his words the night Elizabeth had been taken. 'A part of me could kill you right now.' They reverberated through his mind like bells hurting his head with each repetition until he couldn't take it anymore. Unable to move, he found himself laying forwards onto the table as he cried quietly.

Patting him on the back, Chuck felt for the man even though he didn't know him. Peter didn't respond, probably wasn't even listening to his environment as Hughes barked orders.

Hughes needed the situation resolved, so he dispatched the agents to document the information and continue working the case to find Keller. The man had another crime stacked against him and they needed to catch him.

Staying behind, Chuck picked up his things quietly around Peter so as to provide quiet company without disturbing the agent.

When Peter seemed to calm down, Chuck offered advice. "Don't hold it against yourself too hard. Neal Caffrey is a world renowned con artist and thief. If he wanted to steal the treasure, he would have."

"I know. Which is why I didn't pay enough attention to the evidence proving his innocence, I only looked for proof of his guilt." Peter croaked. "He's the best friend and partner I've ever had, so that's a problem."

"Join the club." Chuck muttered.

"What?" Peter questioned.

"Later. Right now the focus needs to be on how Keller got his revenge and taking him down for it." Chuck waved the question away.

Still confused, Peter paused for further explanation. "According to the records, you and Neal put Keller into prison. Then he escaped by abducting you. Now he used Neal's art to set him up for the theft which damaged your partnership, and then he took Mrs. Burke. Neal takes the blame for crimes he didn't commit, loses everything he has, and then risks his life to rectify things beyond his control. You see your friend fall in a crime he allegedly committed and lose your wife taking away your support systems. She watches your partnership fall apart before losing her freedom which hurts you and Neal. Keller got you both very well, and there was no way you could have seen it coming because he played on a weakness in your friendship."

Catching his breath at Chuck's words, Peter felt like he had been sucker punched. The agent had the situation right, he knew it in his gut. He was too tired to cry anymore, but the sorrow of understanding still reflected in his eyes. "And I walked right into it… There are things I said to Neal, that I can never take back, and can never forgive myself for."

"Yes, you can. And Neal won't hold it against you either. He'll be hurt, but he won't hold it against you." Chuck tried to help reassure him.

"How do you know? You don't know Neal or what I said to him." Peter's questions were penetrating. If Chuck had anything less to stand on, the questions would turn all meaning of his words into nothing.

"I don't want to risk what he is doing over there, so I won't answer that yet. But I'm asking you to trust me. He will forgive you, there isn't anything he isn't willing to give to his friends." Chuck stated the words as a well known fact, something he had seen for himself.

Unable to believe him, Peter couldn't understand how Neal would forgive him for saying something so terrible. "I hope you're right, but I don't see how." Then he retreated back to his office to hide away and attempt to come to terms with what he had learned.

* * *

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	5. Chapter 5

**Marching**

* * *

 **Unknown Location – Desert**

Trekking through the sand, Elizabeth realized she was hotter and more uncomfortable than she had ever been before.

They had been walking for a few hours and the group was getting tired. Anderson had urged them to keep up with him as he walked steadily through the sands. Since the man was carrying the burden of another, albeit smaller man, he didn't give any slack for the others falling behind. His focus was to put distance between them and the fortress they were fleeing, especially once the sound of conflict reached his ears.

"We made sure the Russians knew we were putting out a signal in the area if we found their treasure, so they had a standing military presence ready as soon as the signal went live." Anderson had explained when he stopped on top of a hill briefly to survey his surroundings.

Reaching a decent valley in the sands, Anderson found dead trees from an old well, shelter of the surrounding hills to block the light of a fire, and enough rocks to provide cover if needed.

"We'll camp here for the night." Anderson stated as he lowered his burden onto the sand. He looked fatigued, but was still going despite it. Barking orders, he soon had them settled into beds of sand with a small fire providing some warmth.

Pulling out a few meal bars and a canteen, he gave the former hostages a light reprieve to their hunger and thirst before focusing on the injured man.

"Do you know his name?" Elizabeth began trying to make conversation while she munched slowly on her bar. She was hungry, but knew it wouldn't last long.

"Let's go with Bob. I don't know which name he would prefer going by right now." Anderson shrugged as he checked the man's injuries over providing medicine where needed.

"You know him?" She probed further.

"He was my mentor back in the early days. Haven't seen him since the last time I was killed, and haven't heard of him since the last time he was killed." Although he provided short answers, his tone indicated an end of that avenue of conversation.

Taking advantage of his answers, Elizabeth tried to gather more information. "Do you know how the treasure got here?"

"No." Was his abrupt answer while his posture stiffened in response to the subject.

Undeterred, she tried again. "Alright, do you know what is happening back in New York? How is my husband?"

"Last I knew, Agent Burke wasn't handling the situation very well, but was holed up in his office with the team watching over him. I'm sure he'll be okay, especially once this is over and you're back with him." Anderson completed his check over and moved to settle in for the night himself.

Sensing an end to his conversation, Elizabeth settled into her sand bed and tried to make the most of it. She was cold on one side, and warm on the other while the sand compacted into a bed hard as rock. It was a miserable night sleep, but at least she wasn't in chains.

* * *

 **New York City: FBI White Collar**

With the reveal of Neal's innocence, at least as far as the treasure was concerned, the team had a lot of rumors to consider.

Approaching the stranger in their midst, Jones and Diana decided to get some answers from Agent Carmichael. "Why did Neal let your people take him if he wasn't trying to get away with the treasure? Was he trying to protect Mrs. Burke?"

"Neal asked what he could do to help, and since he was the ransom, he was sent." Chuck gave them the basic answer while he worked on his computer.

Annoyed by how the man was always glued to a screen, Diana asked, "Do you ever take your nose away from a computer screen? You didn't even look away to answer our question."

"I'm doing exactly what Neal would expect of me, and that is to use my abilities to help the situation. Being a computer engineer, this is my realm of comfort." Chuck explained while his eyes remained glued. "There are only a few places left to look for Keller, and my research methods are much faster than running around knocking on doors."

Realizing that the agent wasn't going to leave his computer, even for an unnecessary glance, Jones posed his question. "How did Neal ask to help?"

"He probably called the boss. It's not like he doesn't know who she is." Chuck answered almost absently.

Pausing, the office in hearing range added another mystery to their puzzles.

"Now, if you're done questioning me, you could redirect your agents to check these zones more heavily." Chuck turned his computer around for them to see a colored map of the country. "Keller had limited means of escaping the city after the abduction was known about. He wasn't with Mrs. Burke, so he went another direction. I've been using my resources to narrow down the most likely areas of the city for him to be hiding in, and the mostly likely destinations if he managed to escape. My people are watching the international locations, which leaves you the national locations."

Distracted by his information, the team moved into action and focused on redirecting the search for Keller.

* * *

 **New York City: Burke Townhouse**

Taking another trip home, Peter had a tough time even getting through the door due to his shaking hands jangling the keys uncharacteristically. Pausing to look at his fingers, he knew it wasn't them, but his mental imagery of what would be waiting for him. Breathing, he forced himself to steady his fingers long enough to open the door and enter the house.

Closing the door, his mind played through the many times he had walked these steps. His imagination could almost hear the clatter of Satchmo's claws as he hurried to greet him, the low woof and wags of excitement intermixed with doggy kisses. There was usually the smell of food cooking for dinner, the homely noise of dishes, and Elizabeth's face greeting him with a kiss or her voice echoing down the hall.

Instead he was greeted by silence and the stale air of a house closed up without inhabitants. Satchmo was with friends, and Elizabeth was missing.

Feeling the shakes start up again, he hurried up to their bedroom, hurried to grab some clothes before retreating

Making a stop to leave his dirty suits at the dry cleaners, he made sure he wouldn't need to go home again for as long as possible.

* * *

 **Undisclosed Location: Desert**

Dozing on the backseat, Elizabeth remembered how her morning had started, and why she was tired enough to rest even with the questions running through her head while she bounced over rough terrain.

It had still been dark when she woke up to the gentle noise of Anderson speaking to her.

"Don't move an inch." He whispered in a soft command.

Freezing instantly, Elizabeth sensed danger and trusted this man to protect her.

Moving with careful stealth, the man used a hot rock to draw the snake away. Then once it had moved to the warmer heat source, he grabbed it and chucked it into the sands away from camp.

Having realized the danger she was in, Elizabeth relaxed back onto the sand as soon as she was safe. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Anderson nodded at her. "Get some rest. We have a long way to go to keep putting distance between us and them while we wait for our ride to find us."

"Ride?" That was new information.

Smirking at her, the agent was amused. "Do you think I could carry Bob acrossed the desert?"

Realizing that the agent needed to have an escape route, she understood that this wasn't a one man mission. Not completely. "Are we walking to a certain location, or is this ride coming to us?"

Holding up another signal, he showed her how they were being tracked. "Casey has been working his way towards us ever since we left the fortress. It gives us a trail for where we came from following us as we go. My bosses can track our progress too."

Settling back to sleep, he chose to get a little more rest before stirring everyone up to get moving again.

Turning over to settle away from the strangers, Elizabeth was too awake to go back to sleep. Instead, she slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out the tie.

Running her hands over it, she could feel that it was quality silk. The design was skinny, like one of Neal's ties. Gasping, she realized that Neal must have been abducted, or Anderson had posed as Caffrey to perform a rescue. Turning the tie over, she felt along it for any means of identification. There was a tag, and although it wasn't full light yet, she thought she could make out NC initials.

Feeling a sense of desperation, she looked the tie over more closely hoping to find some clues.

Paying more attention as her fingers felt their way along the material; she felt the roughness of snags and ridges around holes where the material had slightly melted from something hot. Looking at those areas more closely, she found holes and cuts indicative of bullets.

Then she turned it more towards the growing light and noticed the dark patches around some of the damaged areas. There was blood on the tie.

Hugging the tie, she knew Neal had either given his life to make a way for their escape, or he had given one of his suites to the man acrossed the fire from her. Something which also meant that Anderson would have been shot at with some bullets going close enough to damage the tie and make him bleed.

Curling up into a ball again, she allowed herself to cry for the possibility that the man she had known as a friend was dead. Even though Neal had his faults and rough edges, he was a man that could be trusted when it counted, and one you wanted in your corner when times were tough.

As the sun rose, she got up with the others and began the march through the desert again.

They didn't have much in the way of food or drink to start the day, but Anderson made sure each had enough to survive before making them walk again.

Trekking through the heat, Elizabeth observed their guide. The man was tall, but likely shorter than her husband. She wasn't sure about his hair color as it was hidden by the hat he wore to cover his features, but his stubble of facial growth indicated something dark, and his eyes were hidden behind the sun glasses. Otherwise, he was mostly a fit and military appearing man. Even if he was injured by bullets passing near enough to damage the tie, he was still walking strong so his injuries weren't serious enough to stop him from completing his mission.

In that, she found something admirable in him. Anderson walked as tall as he could under the circumstances. Even though he was hot and carrying another man while leading two more through the desert, he was still showing a strength of spirit to keep going without bowing under the pressure.

Continuing on to observe her cell mates, Elizabeth knew Bob would be alright under Anderson's care, but she was still curious about the older man. She knew he was connected to the government, and had been tortured for something, but nothing beyond that.

Then there was Michael. He wasn't as much of a mystery, but that made him less interesting. The young man trudged along behind her this time, and in front of her that time, but never seeming to be overly interested beyond the desire to get home. Michael generally followed Anderson's orders even if he did so with some grumbling, walked with the group, and only changed direction if he paused or turned to see something he thought might be visually interesting. Those were the times Anderson would bark orders causing Michael to return to his march, but they didn't prevent him from getting distracted at times.

They were reaching the high heat of the day when there was a distant roar that brought the group to a halt. Anderson ordered the people to hit the ground and cover their faces to protect them from the sand while he moved to investigate.

Lying with her face covered, Bob beside her, and Michael to the other side of him, Elizabeth endeavored to follow orders.

After a little while, she heard Michael shifting in impatience and knew they had been waiting for longer than was comfortable. It was hard to ignore the heat beating down on their backs or the sand blowing into any crevice to reach their faces.

It was a relief when they heard Anderson's voice as he declared the coast clear and announced the arrival of their ride. "Come on everybody, our mission isn't done, but your trek through the desert is." He picked Bob up and settled him into the seat while directing Elizabeth and Michael on where to sit.

Taking the front seat with the bulky man he called Casey, Anderson worked with his counterpart while the exhausted passengers slept.

* * *

Thank you everyone for reading, choosing to favorite, following, leaving kudos, and reviewing/commenting :D


	6. Chapter 6

**Understanding**

* * *

 **New York City: FBI White Collar**

With three determined teams searching for him, it didn't take long before Keller was found.

Having no jurisdiction, Chuck remained at the FBI and watched over Agent Burke while the rest of the teams moved out into the field to catch their suspect.

"He isn't going to get away with what he's done. You know that, right?" Chuck tried to make conversation with the agitated agent. Peter had been pacing about the office, fidgeting with the coffee machine, staring out the window in his office, or shuffling papers in an attempt to distract himself.

"I know that… my team will make sure of it. What's driving me nuts is this waiting." Getting angry in a different way than he had been, he shoved several folders off of his desk to vent his emotions. "That's all I've been doing lately, is waiting! Waiting for someone to bring my wife home, waiting to hear if Neal's alright, waiting for Keller to be brought in, and in general waiting for everything…"

"Come with me, Peter." Chuck directed closing his computer.

Snorting, Peter was still frustrated. "I'm not allowed to leave the office in case I do something stupid. Now that I actually want to, I'm denied the ability."

Chuck knew that a commanding tone wasn't going to work on Peter and persuasive was going to make him feel like he was being conned, so Chuck went with understanding. "Stay in the van, stay in the base, stay here… it's annoying no matter what your position in the government is. My suggestion is sparring down at the gym. It's still in the building, but it would give you a distraction that releases those pent up emotions."

Clenching and relaxing his fists, Peter realized that punching something might help, but he didn't want to hurt the younger man.

Noticing his expression, Chuck grinned cockily. "I'm a super soldier, Peter. It wouldn't be easy to hurt me, but you might have to watch out if I were to let loose." He used challenge to try and finish selling his intent.

Giving in, Peter ducked down to grab the folders before placing them back on his desk and leading Chuck down to the training area.

* * *

 **Undisclosed Location: City**

Reaching a city some distance from the fortress, the group deserted the vehicle at a house where another man ushered them in.

Finding a pile of clothes shoved into her hands, Elizabeth was directed to a bathroom by Anderson who ordered her to take a quick shower and change. They were moving to a plane, but they needed to change appearances before leaving the area to avoid anyone from connecting them through their current attire.

Moving as directed, Elizabeth quickly shifted the things she wanted to take with her to the new clothing before hurrying through a shower. Feeling fresher for the sand and dirt being removed, she put the main portion of the outfit on before having some trouble with the cultural aspects of the attire. It wasn't something she was used to wearing.

Looking for assistance, she moved out into the main part of the house hoping to find Anderson. He was a stranger, but there was something about him that made her more comfortable with him than the others.

Finding the man standing with the others, she noticed that he had at least groomed his facial hair and taken a quick shower too. He was wearing different military clothes, but had a native cover to help him hide in the crowds.

"How do you wear these things?" She asked the group together.

Grunting, the big military man Anderson called Casey didn't pay much attention, he was more interested in planning their trip with the local. Michael simply shrugged that he had no idea. Anderson was left, as she hoped, to step forward and assist.

"Here, this is how these work." Then he proceeded to carefully and gently show her how the attire was to be worn. "You'll get the hang of it given time."

"Thank you." She made a few adjustments as he was turning to rejoin the others. "Anderson?"

"Yes?" The agent paused to see what she needed.

"Have we met before? There is something familiar about you." She blurted the question out before she could think about it too hard.

It looked like he had to think about his answer for a moment. "No… we haven't."

"Not even with you going by another name?" She had learned from Neal, and she wasn't going to let this agent slip through on technicalities.

Casey grunted in what sounded like a slightly impressed tone.

"That, I can't answer." Anderson finally stated.

Realizing that she did know him by another name, Elizabeth began to wonder who he could be. She knew there was something familiar about him, but he was making sure to disguise what he could, which would make it hard to place him.

After the sun had set, the group departed to a small airport different from the one she had entered the country through. There they boarded a plane.

Elizabeth was placed into a seat next to Bob and Anderson while Michael sat across from them with Casey as a pilot took them up.

Feeling better than she had in a while, Elizabeth curled up to sleep to gentle hum of Anderson's voice as he took care of Bob and worked with Casey.

* * *

 **New York City: FBI Gym**

Reaching the gym, Peter showed Chuck where the supplies were and lent him some workout clothes more appropriate than his suit.

Regrouping in the ring, the two agents began to circle each other.

"Remember, I'm a black ops agent and a super soldier. You won't hurt me unless I let you." Chuck taunted him with a smile.

"I get the feeling you can't tell me how you're a super soldier?" Peter guessed in an effort to get a better feel of his opponent.

"No, I'm not even supposed to tell you that I'm a super soldier." Chuck put out a very light jab that would have been insulting if Peter was up to his usual level.

Easily dodging the blow, Peter wondered. "Then why did you tell me?" while throwing out a jab of his own.

"Because, my friend trusts you, and I trust his judgment. Besides, it's a good way to distract you and keep you from worrying about hurting me." Chuck dodged the blow just as easily before throwing a slightly faster move.

Realizing they were escalating their sparring, Peter dodged the blow and threw out another of his own at a faster pace. "Who's your friend?"

Smiling as he dodged the blow, Chuck used both hands to make it harder for Peter to dodge him. "I also know Neal Caffrey, but by a different name."

Barely managing to block one blow, Peter dropped his arms. His expression was thoughtful. "You've been hinting at that, haven't you?"

"Took you long enough to notice. My job is to act as backup, distraction, and support. Backup if anything happens to Neal, distraction to help you cope, and support to make sure this whole mess is resolved as best as possible." Chuck pushed Peter back into the sparring match by throwing some nearly connecting blows.

Unable to fight, Peter had too many questions. "Is my wife safe, is Neal alright, what do you know about them?" There was desperation in his voice as he grabbed at Chuck eager for information but still wearing his gloves.

Using his gloves to ease Peter's actions, Chuck let the agent know he wasn't going to push him away. "I can't tell you everything, there are corrupt agents everywhere. However, Elizabeth is safe, and Neal is doing his best to make sure this all works out."

Deflating, Peter sagged into the ropes before sinking to the mat. He was shaking from sheer emotion.

Moving to sit next to him, Chuck let Peter release some of his emotions.

"Are you certain, they're both safe?" Peter demanded to know as he worked through the initial shock of relief.

"I got the first report this morning." Chuck let some of the surprise he had been suppressing show through.

"What surprises you?" Peter had caught on to their being more he wasn't sharing.

"The other hostages… one is an old classmate, but the other… he's my father." Chuck was still trying to wrap his mind around that revelation, and reassuring Peter had brought his own confusion back to the surface.

"Your father? Why is that so surprising?" Peter found himself distracted by a fellow sufferer who was also worried about loved ones in the same mess.

Taking a moment to decide where to begin, Chuck started telling his story. "My parents are both CIA spies who were teamed up as engineer and body guard. Growing up, they played cover roles to hide the truth of their work, but both ended up leaving to protect my sister and I. I'll skip the classified stuff, but long story short, a friend got me into my dad's field of the CIA and the enemy eventually learned that my sister and I exist as leverage. Dad…. He was killed, or so it seemed, since he was shot near the heart and died in my arms. Then today I learned he was revived, the funeral was faked for us by the many corrupt agents connected to the organization that killed him, and he ended up with these opponents somehow."

Realizing that life could be worse, at least he hadn't had to watch Elizabeth die, Peter reached out to pat Chuck on the shoulder much like he often did with Neal. "At least he's alive, and there is hope you will see him again soon." Then he sat for a moment with his hand on the younger agent's shoulder. "I have to ask, you're taking this all so well, but how are you doing it?"

"Neal is my friend, I've known him for a long time and I trust him to do his part. My only fear for him is the knowledge that he would give his life if necessary to get everyone back home safely. For that, I have to rely on the agent backing him up and the support chain assisting them." Chuck explained how he wasn't as worried about what was transpiring somewhere in the world.

Breathing easier, Peter was glad to know that agents were involved and supporting Neal. It increased the odds of Neal returning alive while ensuring greater safety to Elizabeth. "I'm glad to know they're well supported and taken care of, but I was wondering about how you're handling the knowledge that your father is alive after watching him die in your arms."

Shrugging, Chuck didn't give too many details. "The agent protecting the hostages is an old friend. I went to this funeral the first time he died, and only just learned that he is alive after having watched him die right in front of me too." Then turning to face Peter, Chuck summarized. "In short, this isn't the first time someone has come back from the 'dead.' Most likely they were technically dead by medical standards, but not actually dead allowing them to be revived and treated for their injuries."

"I'm glad I work in White Collar. People dying and coming back, the cloak and dagger work, and really so much of the things you guys do is too strange for me." Peter had heard rumors, conspiracy theories in many cases, but Chuck had confirmed a few of them for him so he knew he didn't want to go any deeper.

Laughing, Chuck found himself opening up and talking to this agent. He liked the man and could understand why Bryce had such a high esteem for him. "Oh, if it wasn't going to cause trouble, I could tell you some stories. However, I could tell you a little more about myself. Here's the deal. How about we go back to sparring and share one thing about each other for each hit landed?"

Finding himself smirking for the first time since everything had happened, Peter had a problem with the arrangement. "That would work, but didn't you say I could only hurt you if you let me? Wouldn't that make this a one sided thing as you land all the hits?"

"Now that you're paying more attention, I think the playing field would be evened out some. Then to add to it, I can only use fighting styles you've been trained in… unless you want me to train you on new techniques?" Chuck offered. If it would help keep Peter and Bryce safer, he was happy to help.

Thinking about it briefly, Peter shook his head. "Maybe another day. I'll need to be distracted until my wife and Neal are home safely, and you're worrying about your father and Neal, so we can spar for information or train based on what seems to work the best until they're home safe."

Getting up, the two men met in the middle of the ring and bumped gloves before going back to sparring.

* * *

Thank you everyone for reading, reviewing, leaving kudos, choosing to favorite, and following :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Reprieve**

* * *

 **Undisclosed Location: Safe House**

Elizabeth had slept through the flight until they landed somewhere. Then she walked off the plane as Anderson carried Bob and Casey led Michael. The group then picked up a car to drive into the city.

Casey had insisted on driving, something that seemed to be a growing pattern, and stopped in front of a tall narrow building towards the other side of the populated area. Its bottom floor looked open to accommodate flooding, and the area upstairs had a lot of open space to allow for air to flow through. Considering the humidity and jungle like plants, she assumed they were somewhere tropical, but not too far from where they had been due to the shortness of the flight.

Looking up as she got out, Elizabeth wondered where they were. She hadn't been told their destination since it was a covert government operation, but she could guess somewhere in Asia based on their surroundings.

Following the group up into the house, she learned it was one of many safe houses created for agency use. They were the only occupants using it at the moment, but the cover story stated it was a rental for travelers.

Relieved to be alone, she didn't want to have anymore strangers around than necessary.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Anderson laid Bob down on a couch and began to tend to any injury that might have been irritated by the travel. While he was otherwise occupied, Casey was left to direct the others to their rooms before he disappeared with the excuse of getting supplies.

When he had finished, Anderson moved to help the others get more comfortable in the strange environment. "The bathroom is through there and is fully plumbed, the kitchen is over there, and these doors need to be kept fairly closed. Although we want to blend in, we also don't want to make ourselves easy targets should anyone want to spy on us."

"It would be ironic, wouldn't it?" Michael commented. He wasn't enjoying their trip and seemed to be tolerating everything through necessity. However, a smart comment, or dawdling action to see the environment were his only means of showing his displeasure.

Shrugging, Anderson didn't push for conversation.

"Anderson…" Elizabeth wanted to thank him and show her appreciate for his efforts. She had hardly seen him sleep, and yet Anderson managed to keep carrying Bob around, protecting her and Michael, and working with Casey.

"You're welcome." He answered her before she could figure out how to say what she wanted.

"Can I cook when Casey gets back with supplies? It's the least I can do to let you two rest and it would give me something to do." There wasn't anything to keep her occupied since she couldn't contact Peter or keep the agents talking. Michael was more interested in keeping to himself and Bob was still healing from the more recent means of torture, so she felt lonely.

"Sure. I guess you could turn your hands at some local cuisine." Anderson was willing to let her be creative. "Casey is also picking up a few… local means of entertainment. It will give you something to do while we complete our mission later tonight."

"Should I take care of Bob while you're gone?" Elizabeth wanted to be as helpful as she could.

"Are you sure? You're husband doesn't get tortured, so this is different from anything you're used to." Anderson was protectively reluctant to allow her to get too close. He had stopped showing her the way around the place and was talking near one of the windows where he could look out for Casey.

"I'm sure." She knew it wouldn't be easy, but if she could help take care of the man, then that would be one less responsibility for Anderson to carry. Maybe easing his burdens would help her reconcile the feeling of being useless while he carried the worst of the responsibilities.

Watching her, he seemed to be gauging her reaction. Coming to a conclusion, he nodded before looking back out the window. "I'll show you what he needs before we leave tonight. That way he shouldn't need anything, but you'll know how to help him just in case."

So much for taking the responsibility, but at least he was willing to let her be his backup. Elizabeth knew she was making progress, but having decided to take responsibilities, she was determined to find other ways to help.

Sighing, Anderson knew what was running through her mind. "I might as well find tasks for you, huh. You've got that stubborn thing going which means even Peter couldn't talk you out of this one."

Although he still kept something of the cold agent persona, there had been something to the way he had said her husband's name. "You know my husband too. I take it you're connected to the FBI?"

Going rigid, Anderson knew he had slipped. "I know Peter, but let's leave it at that. You don't make it easy to keep my cover since you're determined to figure out who I am, so I guess we're at an impasse as we each work to reach our goal."

"What is your goal, just to keep your cover?" She wondered if the man would share anything.

"Officially, I have orders to keep my cover. I know all of you, although you each know a different name or part of my life, so it isn't easy." He was distant in voice, like his mind was running through things he couldn't share.

"Are you afraid of us?" She wondered why he kept such a distance.

"No, but you could be used against me." He shifted away from her as Casey's returned; a handy distraction.

Allowing the conversation to drop, Elizabeth had gotten a little more information out of him. It would give her more to think about as she tried to keep occupied through the long hours with little if anything to do.

* * *

 **New York City: FBI Gym**

Peter and Chuck had been sparring for a while before they decided to sit back and take a break. The team hadn't contacted Peter and no one seemed to be looking for them, so they were in no hurry to leave.

Drinking some water to hydrate and cool down, Peter felt better for the exertion. "Thanks, I needed this more than I realized."

"You're welcome, but it wasn't only the physical exercise that has helped you. Knowing your wife is safe has done wonders for your demeanor." Chuck noted between sips.

"Not only my wife, but Neal too. He is the best friend and partner I've ever had, and I need him to return safely. Also, I need to apologize for what I said to him… he doesn't deserve that at all." The memories caused him to shudder slightly.

"Is that what you seem to be having nightmares about? I've noticed that you aren't always muttering about your wife, sometimes its Neal's name your saying as you wake up." Chuck wondered. Since the agent had been sleeping in the office and Chuck had been hanging out nearly around the clock, he had plenty of time to observe him.

Embarrassed, Peter colored as he remember his tendency to talk in his sleep. He had never heard himself, but Elizabeth commented on it from time to time, especially when they had been searching for bugs in their house. "Yeah." Getting up the nerve to say it in private, Peter told Chuck what he had said. "I had suspected Neal of stealing the treasure for a while, but when Keller claimed to have proof in addition to stating it as the reason he abducted my wife… I lost it. In only a moment of lost control, I shoved Neal up against the siding of my house, and practically spit hatred in his face telling him that a part of me could kill him. What scares me more than my loss of control; is his reaction. He didn't shake or tremble under my hold, he only looked defeated, like he knew he had lost my friendship and wasn't going to fight for it, then worst of all, he said that a part of him would let me. How could he ever just let anyone do anything like that to him?" By the time he had finished, Peter had worked himself into something between anger, confused worry, and fear. What if Neal ever just 'let' someone kill him?

Dropping the paper cup onto the floor, Peter didn't heed the mess he had just made. His realization was too terrifying. Would Neal let someone over there kill him?" What if he didn't make it home alive? Could Neal take himself out to send his friends' loved ones home? Particularly in a way where he might perceive himself as saving his friends from his presence? Did he think he was a burden; would he save them from himself? The ideas made Peter sick and he had to hurry to the bathroom to throw up.

Hearing the sound of Chuck following him, Peter hardly took the time to realize he had moved to a first name basis with the agent. He was too upset by the images flashing through his mind.

"Neal wouldn't do that unless absolutely necessary, and then only because the objective was on the line. Basically, he would only let them kill him if he was doing something like taking a bullet for your wife, my father, or one of the others involved in the operation." Standing behind Peter to provide what comfort he could, Chuck tried to relieve the fears the idea had caused.

When Peter had cleaned himself up and was standing over the sink, Chuck stood at his shoulder where he could see him in the mirror reflection. "I spent years talking about Neal as the most hated person in the world, there wasn't anyone I could hate more than him, even in all of history. He knows that between seeing my expression to his face, dealing with my reactions as I moved out, and a chance encounter with my other best friend who let him have it, even believing he was an unfortunate look alike. Although I never said what you did to him, he didn't miss how much I hated him."

"There was a lot of hate in there…" Peter noted quietly. "How did he handle that?"

"I didn't see him for nearly five years. After I left, we lost touch." Chuck thought back to what had transpired. "When I did see him again… he was different. The easy friendship was gone."

"Have you worked it out with him?" Peter needed to know, maybe he could learn how to repair his actions based on what Chuck had done.

Hesitating, Chuck could see how Peter looked more penetratingly at him through the mirror. "We haven't talked it all through, because we still had the awkwardness about being romantically interested in the same girl. However, we did work through enough to know our friendship is still there."

Hanging his head over the sink, it was hardly helpful information to Peter. "I doubt that consolation will be of much help. You haven't fixed your friendship, and you didn't tell him you wanted to kill him to his face."

Not daunted by Peter's words, Chuck continued. "I didn't say it, but… let's just say, my reactions did give off something like it. Although I gave him those hurt/angry puppy dog eyes he has commented on in the past, I also made comments and didn't hide my hatred." Humming for a moment, he considered how to word the next part. "When we did meet again, he… well, he protected me, was friendlier with me than he was with anyone else, and then entrusted me with everything he was working for. Neal forgave me for everything, and I didn't even have to ask for it."

"Why are you smiling as you say that? There is something you're hiding, what?" Peter turned away from the sink. He had regained enough control to hold his ground standing.

"Well, there is more to what happened, but because my father had pulled him into his work, there is classified stuff involved." Chuck vaguely explained and watched Peter's eyes narrow as a result. "Once again, I've already said more than I'm supposed to, so don't expect more on that subject."

Moving to lean against the sink, Peter wondered what was going on. "That's why the CIA was so willing to hand him over. You knew he was innocent, he was willing to help, and with his history somehow involved with your agency he knew what to do. How could you send a white collar con on such a dangerous mission?"

Seeing that it was already starting to click in Peter's mind, it was on the tip of his tongue, but Peter hadn't connected the pieces yet, Chuck was relieved for a distraction.

"Hey boss, this is where you disappeared to. We've been looking around for you when you weren't in your office." Jones popped his head into the bathroom before walking in to join them. He cast a sideways glance at Chuck; he still didn't trust the visiting agent from the CIA.

"Chuck brought me down here to spar." Peter said from where he was leaned against the sink.

Opening his eyes wider, Jones was surprised by the familiarity of his tone. "Making friends have you?"

Sensing what Jones was getting at, Peter knew his agent was just looking out for him. "Don't Jones. Chuck knows Neal, his father is another hostage, and he's just trying to help." He was suddenly too tired. The physical and emotional fatigue was catching up to him.

Both moving forward to support him, Jones and Chuck pulled Peter to lean on them as they walked him back up towards the office. Although he was wearing his workout clothes, Peter still went with them.

Reaching the office, the men sat him in his chair and Diana brought a blanket to cover him with. Peter was almost instantly asleep.

Directing Chuck out, Jones and Diana berated him on the landing. "What do you think you're doing trying to work Peter over? He isn't some mark or enemy you can manipulate or control! How dare you tell him some spiel about being in the same position so that he would open up to you!"

Quietly pulling a photo out of his wallet, Chuck showed them an old picture of him with a much younger Neal sitting together smiling for the camera. "He and I went to school together. I'm not lying about anything, and the only reason I'm trying to get close to Peter is to help him deal with the situation."

Taking the picture with interest, the two agents were intrigued to see a younger Neal than ever before.

"This is from before he landed on our radar… Why does it look like Neal went to college? We have no record of him in a college." Diana was suspicious.

"No record of Neal Caffrey in a college, but you won't find Charles Carmichael in one either. We both inherited our fathers' problems, so neither of us uses our real name for our safety." Chuck accepted the picture back and returned it to his wallet. He knew the agents were still suspicious of him, but he had alluded to danger in the hopes of them not pushing their investigation too far.

Being called back to work, Jones and Diana left Chuck on the landing as they joined the rest of the teams.

* * *

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	8. Chapter 8

**Native Trouble**

* * *

 **Undisclosed Location: Safe House**

Waking up to noises too close to the house for comfort, Elizabeth wondered if the agents had returned early. Anderson had told her he and Casey were going on their mission so she and Michael were to keep themselves occupied.

For a while she and Michael had played some local games for something to do, but he had gotten bored and chosen to go to bed. After failing to engage him in the mystery of Anderson, Elizabeth had retreated to the couch watching over Bob. The older man had been sleeping peacefully and hadn't minded her presence a bit.

Finding his sleep soothing, she decided to go to bed after a while and sleep while she could. Although she had only rested for a while, she was wide awake after hearing the strange noise.

Getting up to investigate, Elizabeth crept to the door of her room and cracked it open. The house was dark and generally quiet, but there was definitely a human presence on the landing by the main door.

Listening, she couldn't understand the conversation and realized to her horror that it wasn't Anderson and Casey, but someone else. Either they were connected to the mission, had found them from the people who had held them hostage, or they were some other local threat she didn't know about.

Moving away from the door, Elizabeth tried to find a means of buying time if they entered the house. Based on their continued noise and hushed movements, they were probably trying to break in either to rob the house in the agents absences, or for something else.

Slipping down the hall, she knocked on Michael's door to alert him, but he wouldn't listen to her warning. "It's your imagination, or you must be hearing something on the breeze. Close your window." He grumbled as he closed his door and headed back to bed.

Unable to raise her voice too loud, Elizabeth moved on to Bob. The man was still injured and wouldn't be able to defend himself in the event of an invasion.

Fortunately he wasn't a tall or heavy man, so she managed to carefully wake him up and help him walk to a closet where she stashed him down in the corner behind some things.

His voice was weak, but he understood the urgency of her actions and whispered warnings. He tried to convince her to take refuge with him, but she refused. It would draw attention to him if they were both in the closet and she couldn't hide herself well enough.

Despite his words, she insisted on keeping him as safe as she could and moved to find another hiding place acrossed the room. Ducking down into another closet, she found some large equipment to hide behind. From there she listened.

The men gave up on keeping quiet and moved to kick the door in which made a loud crashing sound as it fell. Then they were loudly bumping into walls, speaking what sounded like swear words in another language, and hiccupping to indicate intoxication by something. Elizabeth assumed they were drunk which only made the situation more dangerous.

Opening doors as they went, they didn't seem interested by most rooms, but caused a lot of noise as they drug Michael back out of bed.

Wincing as she heard them hit Michael, Elizabeth wished again that he had listened to her, but she wouldn't have been able to protect Bob if she had continued fighting with him. The sounds didn't last long before she heard them bang out of his room and continue down the hallway towards her and Bob. She was trembling, but trying to keep still and quiet so she didn't draw attention.

When they finally reached the main room, Elizabeth heard them push things around and the clatters of things falling. Furniture was being moved, the games were swept to the ground, and they were opening various doors looking for something… or someone. A thought crossed her mind. What if these men were looking for her?

Gasping slightly, she covered her mouth as she realized she had made a noise, but it was too late. The men opened the door to the closet she was hiding in and began pulling anything in their way to dump it onto the floor. She heard the man as he saw her, something probably akin to an 'aha,' a noise understandable in any language.

Feeling her wrist grabbed from where she was cowering in the corner, Elizabeth was horrified by the expression in the men's eyes. They were drunk and looking for her.

Desperately, she tried to fight them off, but wasn't strong enough against three large men. Instead, she could only cry and make as much noise as possible in the hopes of rescue. Blinded by tears of fear, she struck out at random striking whatever was in reach, but they were overpowering her.

Terrified by their intent, Elizabeth didn't know what she could do to prevent it, and certainly didn't want them to succeed.

Turning her head, she barely dodged the lead man's attempt to kiss her. His breath made her gag and her stomach heave.

Then she fell to the floor hearing nothing but loud noise behind the roaring in her ears.

* * *

 **New York City: FBI White Collar**

When Peter woke up, he wasn't heartened to see the team still working to find Keller. What had happened?

Ducking into his boss's office, Peter knocked as he opened Hughes' door. "I thought Keller had been found, didn't the teams catch him?"

The way his boss's eyes fell wasn't reassuring. "Take a seat, Peter."

Following the order, Peter plopped into the seat. "I get the feeling there is about to be more bad news, isn't there?"

"Keller escaped. There was a tunnel beneath the sewer and we aren't sure which direction he took. We have trackers and dogs trying to follow his scent, there are road blocks and wanted posters. The FBI and local police are working together to help in the search. It's only a matter of time before we catch him." Hughes looked him in the eyes and tried to be reassuring.

Slumping down into the seat, Peter was dismayed to hear the news. "At least Chuck finally shared some good news with me earlier. Elizabeth is alright, and so is Neal." Peter didn't share the rest of the information, they were things Chuck had shared in confidence so he was only going to think about them himself.

"That's good to hear." Hughes clasped his hands in a business fashion and Peter knew he had questions coming. "How far do you think you can trust Agent Carmichael? I've noticed you seem to be getting rather friendly with him."

Leaning on his hand, Peter was still tired despite having had a few hours of decent sleep. "Chuck… I haven't been able to verify any of the things he's told me, especially about Neal, but I think I can trust him. My gut tells me he's as honest with me as he can be." And even more than he should be, based on his words Peter thought.

Nodding, Hughes was glad to hear that. "Good. We need to have an ally in the CIA, someone to tell us what is going on. Has he told you anything?"

Shaking his head, Peter had to lift it up off of his hand for the action. "No. He gives hints and clues to things about his history with Neal, that everyone is okay over there, but doesn't share specific details. From what I understand, they fear corrupt agents and don't feel comfortable sharing anything until the danger has past."

Frowning, that was more information than Hughes had been able to gather from his contacts in the NSA or the FBI. "I don't like the idea of corrupt agents, especially not when their potential presence interferes with us knowing what is going on with our own people."

"They don't seem to have a specific threat. Chuck, he told me some generalized stories about himself and his team, and although I'm reading between the lines, he seems to have dealt with a great deal of corruptions in his field. My theory is that they are taking precautions rather than risk it, and considering that Elizabeth's and Neal's lives are hanging in the balance, I'd rather they took precautions." Peter commented from his seat.

Agreeing reluctantly, Hughes watched the way Peter seemed more relaxed. Deciding to take advantage, he checked up on his agent. "How are you doing?"

Peter talked to him for a short, discussed his agreement with Chuck to spar and work out in the gym as he needed distractions or to work through his emotions.

Listening, Hughes knew his agent was still drifting without his wife and best friend, but he understood that Chuck had done a good thing by taking Peter down to spar. Something about their time together had allowed Peter to get a few hours of decent sleep, and although he still needed rest and to take better care of himself, at least the agent's condition was improving.

When Hughes sent Peter to clean up for the day, he was relieved that Chuck was taking such good care of his agent, but still concerned with how the situation could play out until he had more information to work with.

* * *

 **Undisclosed Location: Marsh Fortress**

Driving away from the village, Casey and Anderson went further out into the wilderness until they found the fortress they were looking for. It was set near a low marsh land which would make a stealth approach difficult, and the land was open for easy viewing. At a mile's distance, there was a high rise of mountainous country that would give them height to see over the walls, but the distance made seeing details difficult. Fortunately, they were well equipped and officially supported, so they had a means.

Observing the fortress, Casey and Anderson studied how it worked and what the personnel wore. Once they had a good idea, they returned to the village and made a few purchases that would help them pass for the local soldiers. Then Anderson forged some papers and Casey stole a truck from the soldiers on leave in the village.

With their plans in order, the two agents climbed into the vehicle and drove out to the base. Flashing the papers with a military scowl, Casey got them into the base without being hassled.

Driving up to where the rest of the trucks were, he turned off the engine and climbed out with Anderson. The two retrieved their supplies and pretended to transport them into the shed as if they had been on a supply run. With the task completed, Casey returned to the truck and drove back out of the base to take up residence outside where he could stand as lookout with the getaway vehicle.

Left alone inside, Anderson used their supplies intermingled with the supplies of the fortress. With his concoction mixed, he snuck out of the shed and headed for the water source of the base.

Pouring everything into it, he had contaminated the water with enough knock out drugs to put the necessary number to sleep, even if the water diluted it. This would make them weak and take down their defenses with the appearance of them having too much to drink.

With that task completed, he moved purposefully acrossed the grounds to the main building.

Although the layout was different from the other fortress, he found his way to the computer room easily enough. It was running on a lean staff for the night so he was able to walk in with a form and stood by the computer while the solider in charge read the request allegedly from a superior.

While he moved to comply, Anderson managed to hook his phone up and loaded a worm into their system.

When the soldier had completed the order, Anderson left the room as if to report the completion of the request to the superior.

As soon as he left the room and was down a few hallways, Anderson sent commands to the worm and the entire system began to fall apart. He was frying their communication system from the inside out one fortress at a time targeting the main infrastructures for each division.

Using the distraction as the fortress once again reacted to their crumbling infrastructure, Anderson snuck around the base disabling weaponry to further weaken their defenses. Then he repelled down the wall and snuck away from the fortress until he was able to meet Casey at the getaway vehicle.

Getting an alert on his phone from the security back at the safe house, he urged Casey to hurry so they could return to protect the civilians and injured agent.

* * *

Thank you everyone for reading, commenting/reviewing, following, leaving kudos, and choosing to favorite :D


	9. Chapter 9

**Capture**

* * *

 **Undisclosed Location: Safe house**

Racing through the village, Casey attracted the attention of the local law enforcement and ended up with a car following him to the house. The police were short staffed and couldn't afford to take men away from handling the soldiers, but they couldn't ignore his speeds either.

Parking the car askew, he didn't even bother to close the door as he could hear Elizabeth's screams coming from the house. The police officers heard the screaming as well and followed them up the stairs into the house.

Walking down the hall, the two agents and the two police following them had their guards up. They took notice of Michael, but continued down the hall to the main room.

A quick glance around showed no sign of Bob, but Elizabeth in the hands of some rough local men. Almost growling in his own way, Anderson leapt at them causing the men to drop Elizabeth. The officers called out to the men, but they were beyond listening. Anderson was forced to engage them in full combat.

One man tried to hit Anderson, so he ducked beneath the large hand and kicked out at his groin causing the man to drop. Another moved to kick him, so Anderson rolled out of the way. Then while he was defending himself from the third man, the second attempted to put a knife through his back. Since Anderson dodged the worst of the blow, he only ended up with a painful cut acrossed his back with one point going deeper where it started.

Hissing, Anderson was even more challenged to fight the three men. Luckily for him, Casey had been able to stay ahead of the police in that time to join the fight.

Teaming together, the two agents put themselves between the men and Elizabeth and worked to push them towards the police. Once they were close enough, they were able to knock the men unconscious before the cops cuffed them.

Talking in broken English, Casey helped the police haul the men down to their car where they would be taken into custody. He processed the official work while Anderson took care of the people in the house.

Checking Elizabeth over, he realized that she was in shock and not overly injured, just scared.

Leaving her for a moment, he went to check on Michael to find that he was hurt, but not seriously. The men had mostly hit him a few times before knocking him unconscious. Some bruises and a headache were likely to be the only damage. Lifting him to the main room, he laid him on a pile of pillows on the floor. If he rolled off, there wouldn't be far to fall.

Then he searched about until he found Bob tucked away in the closet and helped him back to his position on the couch.

Having regained some strength, Bob asked him who the woman was. "She helped me off of the couch and into the closet; refused to hide with me for my own safety too."

Understanding that he liked her, Anderson summarized her identity. "Elizabeth Burke, Agent Peter Burke's wife. She was abducted by one of Neal's enemies as revenge against Caffrey and Burke for putting the man in prison." With the one way introduction made, Anderson returned to Elizabeth.

He was able to focus solely on her, so he crouched down by her side. She was sobbing and flinched away from his touch not realizing she was safe.

Moving back to the couch, he took a blanket Bob passed him before draping it over her shoulders. Then he sat down on the floor beside her and talked to her, explaining that he and Casey had responded to the security alert and what had transpired after. Even as his blood ran down his back, his focus was on helping her.

Slowly responding to his voice, Elizabeth began to become more aware of her surroundings. As she seemed more focused, Neal slowly went from his Caffrey persona and returned to his Anderson persona. He had needed to use his kinder, gentler, and more familiar voice with her through the terror, but as she was growing more aware, he still had his cover to keep.

"It's alright El, they didn't hurt you, you're safe." He reassured her before being surprised as she threw herself into his arms.

Hugging him closely, Elizabeth needed to feel safe and protected. Although she couldn't place how she knew Anderson, she knew he was the person on hand to give her that security.

Letting her lean into him and cry on his shoulder, Anderson held her close and gently stroked her back waiting for her to work through the fear.

* * *

 **New York City: FBI White Collar**

Going back down to the locker room, Peter got a shower and changed back to his regular clothes before returning to the office.

When he walked in, he was glad to see Jones approaching with Diana. They handed him a good cup of coffee and updated him with good news.

"The trackers found which way Keller went through the tunnels. He is cornered in a building and surrounded. We're heading to help capture him, but thought you would like a cup of the good stuff and some potentially cheery news to start the day." Jones updated him on the situation.

Thanking them, Peter was glad he had such good agents. Based on their dress, the agents hadn't changed, and both looked tired enough to have gotten little sleep. He watched them go and wished he was allowed to accompany them, but knew it was for the best. His desire to catch Keller himself wasn't worth risking their safety.

Sighing, he went up to his office and tried to get some work done. He felt like he might be able to close a cold case or two, so he might as well do something worthwhile.

* * *

 **Undisclosed Location: Safe House**

Knowing the location was blown anyway, Anderson allowed the police to take their evidence against the men and let a doctor in to check on everyone.

Michael was checked out for head injuries, but passed his test with flying colors. His general injuries were bound and he remained on the cushions to rest.

Elizabeth eventually calmed down enough to allow Anderson to be checked out, but she insisted on staying close to him. She helped him lift his shirt over his head while holding his hat on his head. The agent was stubborn about keeping his cover, and after he got hurt protecting her, she wasn't going to deny him the simple request.

Wincing, she felt her stomach flip at the sight of so many red lines and welts acrossed his back, and that wasn't even touching the gouge where the knife had cut an angry red line of its own. There was a decent amount of blood everywhere which made it hard to see any signs of healing on his previous injuries.

Holding her hands over his while the doctor sewed him up, she could see the stress lines as he bit down on a solid piece of leather and felt the tension as he held a wooden rod. The agent still had work to do, so he had refused any means of deadening the pain and insisted on holding something he couldn't hurt with his grip.

Although she didn't think of it at first, it did strike her that Anderson had indeed worn Neal's suit and tie into the fortress with the red lines bearing witness to how close he had been to death to rescue them.

Even Michael had watched quietly for a time as he thought through the situation. It had been his own ignorance and stubbornness that had gotten him hurt. Elizabeth had tried to warn him, and Anderson had come to the rescue with Casey. He owed these people his life, so he should start at least behaving a little better.

* * *

 **New York City: FBI White Collar**

Closing another file, Peter felt good having completed a little work. There wasn't much for him to do while he was officially on leave, but since he was in the office he was doing what he could anyway.

Hearing the elevator ding, he looked up and watched the procession of Keller being taken into a back interrogation room away from the main office. Even in just that moment though, he still locked eyes will Keller and watched as the man smirked at him. It angered Peter enough that he snapped his pencil in half. Keller knew he had hurt him, but he didn't seem to know that Elizabeth and Neal were actually alright. Relieved for the CIA's secrecy, Peter knew it was at least one good advantage to the whole mess.

When the group disappeared, he attempted to get back to work, but was unable to focus.

Flagging Chuck down in the office, he signaled sparring to see if the other agent could join him. At his nod, Peter began closing down his desk and left his jacket. Meeting Chuck at the doors, he only paused a moment to glance towards the interrogation rooms before entering the elevator.

* * *

 **Undisclosed Location: Safe House**

Once the police had taken the men into custody and the doctor had finished his rounds, the group settled in for a few hours rest while Casey made plans for their departure. They would leave before dawn in case anyone came after them, but they needed a little while to initially recover from the conflict with the drunken locals.

Settled on the couch, Anderson was placed between Bob and Elizabeth. The two had insisted on him relaxing there with them instead of on the floor or in one of the hard chairs. At their requests, he leaned his head back and dozed for a little bit while Elizabeth curled up beside him and Bob watched from the other side.

Casey opened his mouth to speak when he found Anderson sleeping, but Bob shushed him. "Let him get two hours of sleep. It'll be good for him and then he'll be more refreshed for moving to the next location."

Grunting, Casey wasn't going to argue with the more experienced agent. He knew how the family worked, and there wasn't any point.

"You know him too?" Elizabeth asked. She had never heard the older agent speak, so she chose to distract herself by talking to him. After having slept and then the excitement, she was too keyed up to sleep, but felt safer near Anderson.

"Yes. I've worked with his team before." Bob responded before shifting the blanket onto Anderson better. It had fallen when the agent shifted in his sleep.

Watching the almost paternal action, Elizabeth wondered. "You respect Anderson as an agent, don't you?"

"He's one of the best I've ever seen, and I know I can trust him, which is a rare combination." The agent murmured to avoid disturbing their friend.

Catching the agent's eye, Elizabeth told him. "He respects you too. It's obvious in the way he's been carrying you around, treating you, and how he talks about you."

"Talks about me?" Bob subtly interrogated her for more information.

"My husband is FBI, even subtle interrogation doesn't surprise me." She smiled at him softly before answering his questions. "He said you were a mentor to him in the old days, that he hadn't seen you since his last death or heard of you since your last death, and that he was calling you Bob since he didn't know which name to call you by."

"Which name is he using right now?" Bob asked. He had caught some of what went on around him, but had also missed a lot too.

"Caffrey." Elizabeth tested him. She didn't know why, but wondered if the agent knew the name.

Studying her, Bob frowned. "No, Caffrey is a criminal. Which name is he using?"

Unsure whether the answer was because Caffrey and Anderson were two different people, or if they were just different characters, Elizabeth chose to answer truthfully the second time. "Anderson. He is using Anderson since he knows all of us and is trying to keep cover."

Nodding his head, Bob believed that answer. "You're a smart one Mrs. Burke, but he is also brilliant at keeping his cover. Anderson has been through a lot as an agent, and if he doesn't want you to know who he is, then it isn't going to be easy for you to figure out. However, I can say this for you, he has always talked well about your husband, and what little I've heard about you has also been good."

Cocking her head to the side, Elizabeth tried to get a feeling for how long it had been since Neal and this agent had been in contact. "He doesn't talk about me?"

Chuckling softly, Bob was amused as he saw through her intent. "In answer to your real question, it's been a while since we've talked, before he put much focus on you."

Smiling softly, Elizabeth found herself liking this agent. He was smart and protective of their mutual friend. "I think I like you as an agent."

Reaching out to shake her hand over Anderson's sleeping form, Bob introduced himself. "It's best I keep going by Bob, but I'm glad to meet you Mrs. Burke."

"Call me Elizabeth." She shook his hand.

"Great, now you're friends too. Just don't gang up on me…" Anderson muttered with a light smile showing he wasn't entirely asleep.

"Sleep, you need what rest you can get." Elizabeth put her hand on his head to avoid his shoulder and arm which were covered with bruises and cuts.

"Hard to sleep with you both interrogating each other about who I am." He smirked slightly.

"We'll stop, for now, so do as you're told and sleep." Elizabeth continued attempting to sooth him into slumber.

"I'm not Peter, so your efforts aren't going to work like that." Anderson commented as his eyes seemed to flicker and grow heavier.

"Then how come it's working?" Elizabeth whispered only to be rewarded by mumbles as Anderson slipped into slumber.

* * *

Thank you everyone for reading, leaving kudos, and reviewing :D


	10. Chapter 10

**Moving**

* * *

 **Undisclosed Location: Safe House**

Once the two hours were over, Elizabeth tried to wake Anderson up by gently shaking his arm. "Wake up, Anderson. It's time to go."

"Didn't do it." Anderson mumbled. "Believe me or not, I didn't do it." He seemed to be upset with a little defiance.

"What is he talking about?" Elizabeth glanced over at Bob. The agent was also listening with curiosity.

"Maybe something from back in the day, he was accused of at least one thing he hadn't done." The older man theorized.

"Or maybe it relates to his more recent cover problems, doesn't matter either way." Casey then barked commands at Anderson causing him to jump awake with a wince quickly following.

"You would make a good drill sergeant, colonel." Anderson managed to mutter through the pain.

"Huh." The larger man grunted before he finished collecting the gear they would need for the next leg of their travels. He had already been cleaning the place of anything related to their intelligence work since the location was about to be burned as a safe house.

Moving off of the couch, Elizabeth was glad to be useful as she helped Anderson walk Bob down to the vehicle. Since they had talked, she found herself growing closer to the older man and enjoyed the prospect of riding with him.

Casey came down last with Michael after locking up the safe house. This time the group took off driving. They needed to get distance from the fortress before they tried to fly again.

Sitting in the back seat, Elizabeth helped Bob and Michael with their injuries while occasionally assisting Anderson as well. It gave her something to do and made her feel useful through the long hours of driving.

However, it didn't stop her mind from wondering in the lulls where the men were otherwise occupied. In those respites, she played with the information she had gathered. She knew Anderson from somewhere, he had worn Neal's suits into a firefight where he had been shot at repeatedly, he knew Peter, and he had protected her despite the cost to himself. Then there was his muttering while he slept. Anderson had been accused of something, denied his guilt, and wasn't believed by someone important to him. That reminded her of Neal and her husband, which made it strike her that Anderson could be Neal after all. Maybe she had been held against Neal, but Neal turned out to be an undercover agent sent to retrieve her, and he was determined to keep his cover as a non violent con? It was possible, but she could logically put some serious holes into it. Still, even though it didn't make sense to send an agent into the FBI undercover as a con or to invest in the operation for so long, she couldn't deny that his words and actions would make sense for him to be Neal.

Although she couldn't deny the idea once it took root, she couldn't prove it either. Instead, she chose to keep it as an option while observing to see what information she would find.

* * *

 **New York City: FBI White Collar**

Returning to the floor after a while spent sparring, Peter and Chuck exited the elevator just as the group of agents was transporting Keller down causing them to cross paths.

Standing in the hallway just outside of the offices, Peter clenched his fists at his side while Chuck placed a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. "Keller." He ground out in his anger. His physical emotion was restrained, but his voice was beyond his control during the encounter.

"Agent Burke." Keller sneered. He seemed rather confident in his success.

"What did you tell them about Neal?" Peter needed to know from the source, what was expected of his friend.

Having been unable to get a confession, the agents wondered if this chance encounter would gain them more information and allowed it briefly. However, their stances indicated the intention to hurry Keller away the instant it even looked like Peter was about to lose control.

"Oh, I didn't tell anyone anything, but if I did…" Smiling, Keller knew he wouldn't outright admit to his actions, but the chance to rub it in was too tempting. "I might have told them that he was a skilled criminal, someone capable of breaking into nearly anywhere. However, I don't think he would be a threat to them because he is nothing more than a white collar criminal; too soft hearted for violence, and too stupid to utilize technology to his advantage. He prefers to charm his way through situations… It's doubtful they'll be the charmed type, don't you think? Besides, even if he had some hidden talent, he would be easy to control using the right leverage." With the last word, he waggled his eye brows indicating what the leverage he meant was.

Tightening his grip, Chuck made sure Peter didn't move forward. The agent needed to keep his cool at least enough not to damage the case against Keller.

"My wife." Peter spat. "So, she was given to these people to ensure Neal behaved by giving them whatever information or assistance they want. Would they have told you anything about their intentions with her?" He was shaking with rage, but needed to know what situation his wife was placed in.

Shrugging, Keller knew his words would hurt. "They would probably let Neal know she was in fact on hand. Then they would threaten punishment to her if he didn't behave. After a while, who knows what they might decide to do. People like them live in remote areas and would probably appreciate having a woman around."

Stepping in front of Peter, Chuck cautioned him. "Remember what we talked about, Peter."

Listening as Chuck whispered the reminder that the hostages were safe, Peter relaxed some. He was still mad at Keller for what he had attempted and insinuated, but knowing it hadn't worked helped.

Looking surprised by the change in events, Keller and the other people present hadn't expected that.

Continuing with the intent of removing the smug expression from Keller's face, Chuck told him where he was bound. "The FBI might be intending to put you into a regular prison, but the other agencies want you in deeper, somewhere where you won't see the light of day anytime soon."

"And what if I don't want to go? Prison may not be pleasant, but at least I can get yard time." Keller was getting angry. He didn't like his plans being messed with by this unknown person.

"Then you don't have to, but you won't last long in a regular prison." Stepping away from Peter, Chuck stood on his own in the middle of the groups. "You see, Neal made sure we got in, and now your friends think you set them up. Who is going to protect you from them?"

Remaining silent, Keller hadn't planned for this. He thought the treasure pay off and the strength of his allies would be enough to protect him from his other enemies. It would take time to regroup and come up with a new plan, but at least safe somewhere he would live long enough to work the situation out. "Fine, then put me somewhere 'safe.'" The idea of being in some hole underground wasn't appealing, but it was better to fight another day than to die.

"Agents will be waiting for you downstairs." Chuck directed the agents to take him away before he walked into the office with Peter.

Catching up from where they had left the escort, Jones and Diana were curios.

"Are you saying Neal and Mrs. Burke are alright?" Diana questioned.

"According to the last report, she was asleep on the plane next to Neal and the other hostages. The only person injured is our agent who was hit with heavy artillery fire while setting up his rescue, and my father who had been tortured during his captivity." Chuck confirmed.

Since the rest of the office hadn't heard this information, they turned to Peter for his reaction.

"Chuck already shared the basics of that information with me, which is the only reason I could tolerate seeing Keller out there without punching him…. No matter how badly I wanted to." Peter was still clenching his fist in response to the encounter so the office didn't doubt his desire to hit something.

"Do you want to go spar again?" Chuck asked. He was willing to help the agent deal with his anger and even had some anger of his own. "I could image punching a bag with his picture on it. It isn't as good as the real deal for what he did to our friend, but it might help."

"Your friend?" Another agent caught the implication of knowing someone involved. "Who do you know?"

"Neal Caffrey." Chuck simply stated. "He's an old school friend of mine."

The reveal was news to most, so several questions started flying around.

"I'm not answering your questions, so stop asking. Neal would be in danger if I told you everything, and he has already given enough for my family. What I've done here is to let you know he is innocent because I get tired of him taking the blame for crimes he didn't commit, and to reassure Agent Burke here that everyone is alright so he can stop stressing over their safety so much. That is all I'm supposed to do, so my job is done. Now it's a matter of waiting until the hostages come home so I can berate my old friend for not telling me he is alright and see my father for the first time since he died in my arms." Chuck held his ground and refused to talk to everyone. He had opened up for Peter, but he wasn't risking it with a room full of relative strangers.

Understanding that he had given all he was going to give to them, most of the office went to work on cases. There was the paperwork on Keller, the treasure case, and the continued effort to work on the abduction to do.

Offering his hand to shake, Peter thanked Chuck. 'Thanks for that by the way. Knowing their safe and that Neal is innocent has helped me get some of my sanity back, despite this whole situation."

Shaking the proffered hand, Chuck waved it off. "Don't worry about it. I guess you could consider it something of a selfish action in a way. Neal doesn't have many people he can trust to watch his back, and he seems to particularly like you, so I consider it something of repaying my debt to help him keep a home here."

Looking determined, Peter realized that he would fight to keep Neal's place on the team. "He has a home, as long as he wants it."

Smiling at the ferocity in his eyes, Chuck was glad. "Good, or else you and I would be having another long talk while we sparred."

Amused, Peter threw a playful swing at Chuck knowing the agent would dodge it easily.

Blocking it, Chuck through two fast ones of his own, intentionally missing the older agent.

Moving again, but ruffling Chuck's hair instead of throwing a punch, Peter smiled in return. "And we both know who would win, even if you keep teaching me techniques."

* * *

 **Undisclosed Location: Airport**

Parking the car some hours down the road, Anderson made sure Casey was awake to watch the passengers while he made the travel arrangements.

When he returned to the car, the group transported their load to the plane and took their seats.

Elizabeth sat between Bob and Anderson with Michael acrossed from them with Casey again.

"I think I know who you are. The problem is, it doesn't make sense so I keep questioning it." Elizabeth murmured to Anderson.

Sighing, he wasn't thrilled she was so close to figuring out the truth.

"It seems you've underestimated her." Bob commented lightly from the other side.

"I just have one question. If you are who I think you are, why would you be the person I know?" Elizabeth asked cryptically.

"Because my family is in danger, and playing my role makes me bait to uncover a decades old case." Anderson admitted. It still didn't confirm which identity he was, but gave her the motivation for his role.

"Thank you, for everything." She leaned over and kissed his cheek before taking his arm through hers. She felt safer for his presence and more at ease with the thought it might be Neal sitting beside her.

After Elizabeth fell asleep, Casey commented from the other side of the aisle. "If she figures it out, the bosses say Carmichael has laid the ground work for you to retain your position. Agent Burke even knows a little about you being more than you seem thanks to someone's big mouth."

"Doesn't mean I have to confirm her theories, it's safer for all of them if I don't." Anderson stated to his fellow agents.

Exchanging glances, the others knew he was stubborn, but also knew that there was more at play than his preferences.

* * *

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	11. Chapter 11

**Learning**

* * *

 **Undisclosed Location: Military Base**

Believing they were landing somewhere towards Europe, Elizabeth found herself guided off of the plane into a military establishment.

Looking around, this was a more modern and powerful army than the organization that had held her hostage. These forces had rows of military planes and fighter jets lining the airstrip, a collection of tanks in the distance, and several large barracks of soldiers in addition to a much larger main building.

"This way." Anderson and Casey guided the civilians with a military entourage.

Reaching the main building, they were divided out by a commanding officer. He instructed various soldiers to take them to destinations based on their needs. Bob and Michael were sent to the sick bay to be attended by a physician, Anderson and Casey were to report to a superior, and she was sent to the guest barracks to clean up and get fresh clothes.

Feeling nervous for being away from the familiar group, Elizabeth wasn't entirely reassured by the female officer who had accompanied her. The woman seemed polite enough and wasn't trying to be intimidating, but she wasn't familiar enough to convey the right mix of safety and friendship. Still, Elizabeth was relieved to be guided into a private room where showered and changed into more traditional clothes for what she was used to. Refreshed, she was happy when another soldier appeared to guide her to the mess hall for food.

Walking through the hallways, the establishment had the feeling of a military base. The focus was on necessity and not so much on comforts, so there wasn't a warm and friendly feeling to the atmosphere. Reaching their cafeteria, Elizabeth was shown through the processes of getting her food and directed to the table where her friends were sitting.

Taking a seat, she was glad to see that the rest of the group was all present with the exception of Casey. He was off doing some military something happy to be amongst his peers.

"The man seems to be a born soldier, at least in comparison to some I know." Anderson kind of shrugged. His injuries made it uncomfortable to complete the action, but he hinted enough for her to understand his intent.

"Are you a born agent?" She asked out of curiosity. The more she garnered from this strange friend, the more she could understand him and feel comfortable.

Almost choking, the agent recovered quickly. "Of course you would ask that. El, I wasn't born anything in particular. Then… as a child, I was told stories of heroic law enforcement and was determined to grow up to be the same. Things changed and events happened. My junior year of college I was recruited by choice, because I would have been drafted otherwise. I'm not the law enforcement I once wished to be, but I'm not the kind I dreaded to be either. Mostly my life is full of shadow wars and secrets with even my closest friends not knowing who I really am." He had paused in his eating to stare at the table, but finishing his words he resumed.

"But you do consider us some of your closest friends, even though we've missed a lot of facts and haven't always understood the reasons behind your actions?" Elizabeth probed.

Looking up at her, there seemed to be something in his expression, even covered by the hat and glasses. She knew he did consider them friends, even though he didn't verbalize it.

"You're one of our dearest too, despite all of the issues that have been going on lately." She wasn't absolutely certain, but she was sure enough to want to reassure him.

"Don't, El. You haven't figured out who I am, and there are circumstances you aren't aware of, so please, don't." There was hurt to his voice and he got up to move. His meal was finished and he still had things to do.

"Anderson." She called after him to no avail. Hanging her head, she felt the tears sting her eyes. Why would he walk away like that? Had something happened between him and Peter after her abduction? Gasping as possibilities crossed her mind, she realized that her husband might have lost his temper at losing her, but he wouldn't have actually meant anything said in a moment of anger. Would he? All she knew was that something must have transpired bad enough to make Neal withdraw not only to protect them, but to protect himself.

* * *

 **New York City: FBI White Collar**

Work went on. The team had completed their part of the paperwork for Keller sending everything on through the justice system. With the treasure turning up in Russian possession, they were able to close the paperwork on it. Which only the missing hostages left, there wasn't much to do. They were still being shut out by the CIA and upper echelon of the FBI, so they didn't need to worry about reports beyond the initial notes of what had transpired, which had been done days before.

With nothing else to do, the team had returned to their usual work load and life seemed to almost have an air of normality. There were exceptions of course, like Peter's continued residence in his office and Chuck joining him by nearly living at Neal's desk. The two were often seen either doing their work in the office, or disappearing to spar down in the gym. Continuing to grow closer, everyone knew they had become friends, and the more time they spent together the stronger that friendship became.

The rest of the team was friendlier with Chuck for Peter's sake, but many of them were more interested in gathering information about the mysterious spy. Many of them had researched him spreading rumors of what little information they had gathered while others made up theories to try to explain why such an agent was being left to twiddle his thumbs amongst them instead of being out in the field helping to bring Mrs. Burke and Caffrey home.

Laughing as he entered the office, the entire office paused to take a second look at Peter by Chuck's side. The agent was actually smiling a little bit, something no one had seen in a while.

"Oh, Neal has some explaining to do when he gets back. That is a story… I wouldn't have associated with him." Peter commented.

Shrugging, Chuck reduced his humor down to a smile. "I've already been reprimanded for my big mouth, so I might as well give you something else to smile about until they get back."

Stopping in his tracks, Peter caught Chuck's arm. "You've been reprimanded?"

Softening his smile, Chuck appreciated the concern the older agent was showing. "Don't worry about it, Peter. My boss has long since learned that I'm going my own way on some things, no matter what she says. This, this is something about our mutual friend. Although Neal might not be thrilled I've told you so much, he will be thrilled to have your friendship back. He knows I like to fix things, and after the ways he has fixed things in my life, this is tame in comparison."

"Why would Neal be upset?" Peter frowned at the comment. Following Chuck's direction that their conversation would be better had in the privacy of his office, he began walking again.

Looking thoughtful, Chuck tried to find the right words until they were enclosed in the office above. "Neal, he is more prone to follow the rules on some things than I am, as contradictory to his recent behavior as that may seem. The man knows how to balance when to do as he is told, and when to go off script. He likes to keep anything about himself that might endanger others private, even if it means he is lonely with no one to lean on. According to the records I've recently been allowed to see, he is used to handling things on his own and keeping everyone at a distance."

"What could be dangerous about him?" Peter was even more puzzled as he took his seat. That didn't fit with the person he knew, other than the potential risk of an old enemy. "Is there someone from his past that could be a threat?"

Leaning on a chair before sitting as well, Chuck answered calmly. "Neal and I are both second generation. However, he is more used to the possibility of danger coming from the criminal world or corrupt law enforcement. He wasn't as protected from it as I was, so he bore the brunt sooner and it shaped him differently. Posing as Caffrey, it bears the risk of his father's problems finding him." It wasn't a detailed warning, but it meant Peter might be able to help Neal should anyone bite the bait he presented himself as.

Sitting back into his seat as he absorbed that, Peter tapped his fingers together in thought. "So, Neal keeps secrets about himself for his own protection and in the hopes of keeping anyone who might go after him from taking us down with him. He is an idiot!" Peter huffed in frustration.

Laughing again, Chuck agreed. "He is an idiot sometimes. I think that comes from his lack of support growing up, he doesn't like to put his problems onto other people."

"I take it this is another incidence of you opening your big mouth to say something Neal and your bosses won't like?" Peter had the suspicion that more trouble would come in the future.

Running his finger alongside his nose as a common signal, Chuck answered with a smile. "Neal has always been in danger, every day he lives as Neal there is a risk of them coming after him. Although he hopes to find the persons posing a threat to his family, it increases the odds of something happening to him someday. You knowing he inherited trouble that could attack through any means will be helpful to all of you."

Nodding, Peter was glad to know a little more about his friends, and grateful for the warning. "We'll do our best to help him if they do come. Thanks for the warning."

"Anytime." Chuck said as he got up and headed for the door. Then pausing with his hand on the knob as he stood in the doorway, Chuck turned to say one more thing. "Oh, and another thing you should know about Neal. There are many ways that Neal is more himself with you than even I've seen since before some events that transpired in school. You're a healing safe haven for him, remember that."

Meeting Chuck's eyes, Peter felt worse at first. He hadn't been much of a healing safe haven recently, but then he decided to do a better job when Neal returned. Rising to the challenge, his expression promised to help Neal settle back in when he returned.

Finishing the silent conversation, Chuck closed the door after stepping through the rest of the way. Then he went down to Neal's desk and took his seat to work on some investigating for the agency.

* * *

 **Undisclosed Location: Mountain Fortress**

Infiltrating yet another location, Anderson sweated his way through the climb. Considering how hard these locations were to access, he could understand why it had taken time, but wondered if he was truly the only one capable of pulling this series of missions off. With a last grunt of exertion, he hefted himself up over the top of the ridge and rested for a moment. Unable to remain in the open for long or risk discovery he moved to crawl his way to the rocks where he could crouch for faster progress. Then he got behind a higher ridge where he could physically run. Reaching the corner of the fortress, he had one last obstacle to hurtle before he would be inside the target.

Sighing softly, he pulled out a few spikes and began the grueling climb up the rock face. It was harder for the pain of his skin stretching against the stitches in his back, but he had to keep going in order to complete the mission, and there was a ticking clock for him to complete the destruction of the organization before they could regroup and retaliate.

Peaking over the top, he took a moment to locate the patrolling guard before he slipped over the wall in the shadows. Hugging the fortification, he snuck along the shadows to the lookout tower before descending behind the guard to the compound below. Continuing to sneak along, he made it to the supply shed where he was able to discard his protective gear and reveal his matching uniform.

Moving back out without being noticed, he joined the general ranks of the soldiers and entered the main building for the morning change of the guard. Giving a basic report, he played off his role based on the local observations and was sent to the barracks.

Diverting away from the soldiers, he paused in a shadowed to watch the change of the guard until there was a gap for him to do his job.

When it was quiet again with the predawn lull, he moved to upload his worm into their computer system. Then he went to the armory to begin sabotaging their weapons. Moving through their defenses, he made sure the fortress would not be able to defend itself adequately.

On his way back towards the wall to leave, he heard a soldier comment about a new weapons system the organization had illegally purchased. Considering the magnitude of the explosives mentioned, he chose to remain longer in order to learn about the purchases. Fortunately, they were mostly at locations he hadn't reached yet, but their presence was something to be noted.

With his work done and the extra information gathered, he slipped back out through a side gate as was his custom. Muttering to himself about their weaknesses in security, he started the long climb back down the ridge until he could be picked up.

* * *

 **New York City: FBI White Collar**

Sitting around the office and working on their cases, the team was surprised when Hughes called Peter out of his office and rallied the team around the televisions. Turning on some international news, he showed a report about the desert fortress being taken down by the Russians.

As the agents watched, they saw information depicting an old desert fortress built of stone and sand bricks reinforced with wood and modern day steel. It had been manned by a military organization formed of immigrants and the local militants they had recruited.

What they found particularly interesting, was that the personnel had either been asleep, knocked out by a concoction, or distracted by their failing technological infrastructure. No one had put up much of a fight, and the few wall guards aware of the invasion had been weakened by sabotaged weaponry.

The reporter had briefly touched the alleged presence of hostages being held in the fortress, but no one had been found. Showing various clips, they didn't dwell on the mystery for long.

Cheering, the office understood that this was indication of the enemy who had held Neal and Elizabeth being defeated, at least in part.

Settling down to hear what had happened to the treasure, the office smiled to listen to excited soldiers tell about finding piles of loot stolen from their people. Transitioning to the happy stories, the reporter put a heavier focus on the families crying over their lost belongings. It was a happy story, and distracted the viewers from the mystery of why the fortress had been so easily taken.

Watching the report with the rest of them, Peter had a different expression as he watched the footage show prison cells and the discovery of a blood stained suit filled with holes. He worried about what the situation had put his wife and friend through. While the others cheered for their freedom, he focused on what their captivity entailed.

* * *

Thank you everyone for reading, leaving kudos, commenting/reviewing, and choosing to favorite :D


	12. Chapter 12

**Concern**

* * *

 **Undisclosed Location: Military Base**

Waking up in the morning, Elizabeth joined the rest of the base in the mess hall for breakfast.

Looking around as she ate her food, she noticed that many of the faces around her were happy and had a look of relief. There were also a lot of empty seats indicating a significant amount of the staff not present. Asking the soldier nearest to her, she wondered what had happened in the night.

"Those agents of yours pulled off another huge bust, particularly that Anderson who did the heavy lifting of infiltrating the fortress. They've been holding their weaponry on the local people threatening massive slaughter if we moved against them. None of our people have the skills to infiltrate them, but that Anderson does. He climbed up, infiltrated the fortress as another soldier, and then disabled their weapons before walking back out a side entrance. This morning our soldiers and the local law enforcement knocked down their doors and the threat is being removed. Although our people are still up their processing the place, the initial work is done." The soldier didn't tell her too many details, but was too excited keep silent.

"Anderson is a respected agent, isn't he?" Elizabeth knew he seemed to hold his own with their group, but didn't know how he was on a grander scale.

"I'm not allowed to know his name, but there are rumors around that he is a particular legend being hidden so he doesn't get killed by traitors again. If they're true, then he is a Washington favorite." The young soldier sounded impressed and excited to meet the alleged legend. "Even if they're not true, he has proven to be very skilled at the work and might become such a legend given the chance."

"If his cover role is the one I think it is, then he is a legend of a sort there too. The man seems to create them no matter who he is." Elizabeth commented as she realized how true it was. As Anderson he was pulling off amazing feats to take these fortresses down. If he was Neal, then he had legends as a criminal for his cover role, and was generating stories with her husband and the team of amazing take downs as a consultant. Then there was the possibility of him being this other identity, another legend expanding the depth of what a special person he was. How much of this legendary hero had they missed?

"You think he plays someone in your regular life?" The solider asked curiously.

Keeping in mind that she didn't know this soldier, she answered vaguely. "Possibly, but I don't know. There is just something about him that makes him seem safe and familiar. Maybe he just reminds me of someone?"

Showing less interest, the soldier still seemed to be looking for information. "Who does he remind you of?"

Feeling even more inclined to create distance, Elizabeth had the information she wanted and didn't want to divulge anything damaging. "Oh, there is just something about him that reminds of my husband and his team. They're good agents, so maybe that's it? He's a good agent, so he reminds me of them."

Not looking impressed, the soldier seemed to lose interest and turned away. There wasn't anything else to gossip about, and he wasn't learning anything juicy from her.

Finishing her meal, Elizabeth was relieved to return to her quarters for lack of anything else to do.

* * *

 **New York City: FBI White Collar**

The news reports kept rolling in. With each broadcast, the team began to gain appreciation for what the CIA had been orchestrating. This enemy was large and had massive weaponry according to rumors. So it wasn't surprising that they would want to keep things as covert as possible.

Still, despite their blackout to hide their involvement, the international news was catching on to the chain of events and broadcasting the reports. First the desert fortress taken by Russians, then the Asian marsh fortress taken by locals who were tired of being oppressed and saw an opportunity, and finally the European fortress that had dominated a mountain side endangering the local people was taken out by local law enforcement and the military.

Peter spent most of the broadcasts contemplating what Neal might have done to assist in the take downs, and wondering what his wife might be doing while it happened.

He was worried. The suit in the first news had looked a lot like Neal's despite the dirt, holes, and light blood stains. It confused him. Chuck had said their agent was the only man injured; so had he borrowed Neal's suit and pretended to be him? But it also contradicted the information that Neal had been the one taken hostage. Unfortunately, the most logical way for it to work was that Neal had indeed been wearing the suit and was injured at some point, perhaps after Chuck and he had talked.

Although it looked like he hadn't been hurt too badly judging on how little blood there was, Peter was still afraid of how much damage Neal had endured. Had it been an attempt to get himself killed? Or perhaps just a reckless move intended to protect? Neal wouldn't be above sacrificing himself for others, something he wished he had seen sooner.

Shifting anxiously, he wondered if that would have made a difference. Would any of this be happening if he hadn't accused Neal of stealing the art? Or would it have happened anyway, only without the drama of his anger? It was one of those what if trails he would never know the answer to, and yet he couldn't help torturing himself with.

"This probably would have happened either way. Keller wanted his revenge, and this is the means he came up with. Although, there might have been some slight differences, like your relationship with Neal might have been stronger. Still, Peter. Stop kicking yourself over what might have been and deal with what is." Chuck advised from beside him. The agent had also been watching the broadcasts and analyzing it for the safety of his friends. He knew nearly everyone and had a keen interest in what was happening with them.

Grateful for Chuck's continued assistance, Peter sighed. "I know, but I can't help it. Protecting Elizabeth and Neal is my responsibility. She's my wife, and he is my consultant. Shouldn't I be the one facing the difficulties to keep them safe?"

Zoning the following story out, Chuck shrugged. "Sometimes. But this time, Neal is carrying the load and your wife is along for the ride. She has only been waiting at safe houses. I hear she even played a few local games with one of the other former hostages to pass the time." He couldn't help but shiver slightly as he thought about what nearly happened at that safe house.

"What happened?" Peter demanded, he had felt the shiver pass through Chuck's shoulder where they were touching.

"Nothing… but some locals, they almost did something. Let's just say Neal let them have it and Casey helped him finish the job before the cops took the men away. Your wife was scared, but unharmed." Chuck hurried to reassure him. Peter didn't need the stress of worrying about them any more than he already was.

"How badly was Neal hurt?" Chuck had said men, Neal couldn't fight to his knowledge, so that could prove dangerous for him.

"One had a knife, but the injury is only a flesh wound." Shaking his head at the look Peter gave him, he discouraged more question. "Between the broadcast and my big mouth, you are learning far more than you're supposed to. I can't stop the news. But having been through a lot myself to experience something of what you're going through, and not wanting Neal to lose your friendship for something he didn't do, it's hard enough to limit how much I share without your questions. Things are at their climax now, and their lives are in more danger for the news broadcast announcing their activities, so I need to stop talking, which means you don't get to ask questions anymore." Chuck instructed. Although it hurt to do it, he knew it was worth it.

Nodding his head, Peter understood. The information Chuck had been slipping had been a lifeline for him, but his comfort wasn't worth their safety. Knowing as much as he did would have to do until they could come home.

* * *

 **Undisclosed Location: Military Base**

Meandering through the halls to alleviate the boredom, Elizabeth knew it was only a matter of time before they would be off again. No one had said the mission was over, and she wasn't back in New York yet, so leaving was inevitable.

Passing a room with a slightly open door, she heard someone muttering in their sleep. It was a familiar voice, so she opened the door the rest of the way and found Anderson sleeping. He seemed to be restless so she put her hand to his forehead. There was some sweat, but she wasn't sure if it was from exertion, something in his sleep, exhaustion, or if he was getting a fever. Deciding to look out for him, she flagged a passing soldier down and asked for a doctor to be sent to check on him.

Waiting for the assistance, she got a cloth from the nearby bathroom and made it damp with cool water. Then she returned to his side to run it acrossed his brow.

The coolness made him stir and he was soon waking up with a jolt. "Elizabeth?"

Holding her hands up, she tried to reassure him. "Your glasses, hat, and identity for certain are still intact. I was walking by when I heard you muttering, so I checked on you. It seems like you might be running a fever, so I've asked the doctor to check on you. Someone should be here in a few minutes to make sure you don't have an infection."

Mumbling as he lay back down, Anderson wasn't as worried. "Probably just fatigue, haven't slept much lately. Only a little longer and then I can sleep for a good while until my future is determined." He drifted off into a doze too tired to argue.

Relieved when the doctor showed up, Elizabeth was glad to learn his injuries were looking good enough with no visible sign of infection. Some medication was prescribed and Elizabeth was told he needed to take the pills regularly to ensure he didn't get sick. Then the doctor left with the promise to be available if needed.

Feeling the need to look out for her rescuer and friend, Elizabeth sat by bathing his brown from time to time and soothing him whenever he seemed to get agitated. She felt useful helping him get a few hours of good sleep, and hoped it would increase the odds of him surviving the remaining mission to come.

When he woke up, he was a little embarrassed, but thanked her for her attention anyway. Getting a meal and collecting their things, they were flying out of the base within the hour.

* * *

 **Undisclosed Location: Plane over the Atlantic**

Flying along, Neal sat in the front of the cabin with Casey working to plan their final mission. This was going to be the most dangerous and least supported of them all. In fact, it was going to be even more dangerous with the addition of having to take the former hostages along with them, something neither agent liked.

"At least 'Bob' can be of assistance. What good are the other two going to be? They'll only be a hindrance to our work." Casey grumbled.

Sighing, Neal began working the others into their plan. "Well, Bob can oversee the operation using technology, especially since he designed most of it anyway. He is the only one of the three trained, so he is the easiest to place. Then Michael… maybe have him man the getaway vehicle?"

"I don't think he could drive like we need in order to get out of the situation. Maybe put him as support to Bob? Then you can take the skirt with you since you're so protective of her." Casey threw in his opinion.

"El would do better for helping Bob. It would keep her further away from the danger and she knows how to help with his injuries if needed. They would work well together. Besides, Peter really would kill me if I let anything happen to his wife." Neal rejected Casey's plan. He was so focused on trying to find a way to keep everyone safe, that he missed Elizabeth shifting where she was supposed to be sleeping.

"Huh, and of course you care what some FBI agent thinks." Casey's tone implicated the insult where the words didn't. "It's not like you're easy to kill even when people do try."

"Says the man who killed me once, and who tried more than once." Neal bristled. "Besides, I remember reports where you called Sarah a skirt, and Chuck a geek. Now you consider them the best agents you've ever worked with. So what if Peter is FBI, he is still one of the best agents I've ever worked with, and I'm proud to consider him a friend. No matter how one sided that may be." He was obviously upset and had said more than he had intended. Huffing, he blew Casey's words off. "It doesn't matter anyway, all that does is the mission. So let's get back to figuring out how to work this out successfully."

"Now you're talking." Casey let the previous conversation go, but there was still a tension between the two agents. They could get along professionally, but obviously had their differences personally.

* * *

Thank you for reading, commenting/reviewing, leaving kudos, and choosing to favorite :D


	13. Chapter 13

**Waiting**

* * *

 **Undisclosed Location: Jungle Fortress**

The transition from plane, to car, to location near a fortress was becoming familiar to Elizabeth. However, this was the first time she was taken along to see the fortress and what they were going up against.

Sitting nearly half a mile away from the actual base, she could only just see it through the clearing. It was large with timber and stone reinforcement. The place looked almost as if the militants had taken over an abandoned location before repairing the exterior and upgrading the interior for their modern equipment.

"I don't see how they could be such a powerful enemy with only some reinforced old fortress?" She questioned the injured agent beside her. Bob and she were holding down the base camp and watching over the operation with technology. Her job was to fetch whatever he needed and tend his injuries if necessary.

Michael was somewhere below them tucked away with the escape vehicle. His job was fairly easy. Clear it when they came and help everyone get into the vehicle.

"It's not the fortress, or even the army that makes these people dangerous. Someone supplied them with heavy weaponry, including bombs capable of causing some serious damage, which is the reason they present such a threat. Enemies with the capacity to level an average American city need to be watched and treated carefully." Bob advised her.

Shivering, she didn't want to imagine the damage such an act could do. Returning to her observation of the fortress, she still felt concern for Anderson and Casey. There were an awful lot of soldiers marching around, and each one seemed to be carrying guns with extra ammunition clips. Even if the bombs didn't come into play, the soldiers could easily kill the two agents with the weapons they carried.

Their work seemed to go on for a while. Casey and Anderson had been gone for hours observing the fortress and looking for their point of entry. Nothing seemed to be happening, so Elizabeth found her head sagging in the heat. It was too easy to feel a false sense of security.

Suddenly, there were the clicks of guns and voices barking commands causing her to jolt awake.

Looking around, she realized the army had snuck up on them, and she was about to be captured with Bob.

* * *

 **New York City: FBI White Collar**

To the dismay of the entire office, Peter seemed to return to a form of his depression. He aimlessly stared out the window, absently got his coffee, and occasionally sparred with Carmichael. Still, the spark of interest they had briefly seen return seemed to have disappeared.

Cornering Peter at the coffee machine, Diana decided to check up on him. "How are you doing boss? You've melted back into the ghost that haunts the office again."

Stirring his coffee with as little attention as he paid to anything else, Peter shrugged. "I know Neal is innocent, and I owe him a huge apology. As far as I last heard, El was safe and Neal only had minor injuries. Now they're down to the end of it and in extreme danger. Chuck doesn't want to add to their danger, the news reports have only given me a visual of the cells El was likely in and the suit Neal was wearing when I last saw him, and I can't help but worry about them." His voice caught before the end, but he was talking which was more than he had done in the last day.

Gasping slightly, Diana caught up. "We realized the fortresses are what the CIA has been taking down, but didn't realize Neal and Elizabeth had anything to do with it after being rescued from the first one."

Surprised, Peter hadn't realized the rest of the office didn't know. "No one mentioned anything? I thought Hughes had explained what was going on?"

"No, no one said what we were watching, just turned it on. Chuck must have told you things since he's been rather chummy with you." She couldn't help but tag on the extra comment. Then with a shudder, she added. "That was Neal's suit? I guess that explains why it seemed familiar, but it was full of holes and had blood on it!"

"It looked like his, and that was the fortress where he and El were taken too. What I don't know for certain, is if he was wearing it or their agent." He stopped stirring the coffee and sat it down to avoid spilling it with his shaking hands.

"How was Neal injured if he wasn't wearing the suit?" Diana hadn't heard much information, and knowing what was going on would make it easier to do something about it.

"My wife…" Clearing his throat, Peter tried to finish saying what had happened. "Elizabeth was attacked by some local men at one of the safe houses. She wasn't hurt, but Neal was stabbed in the back protecting her." His eyes were shining and his fist clenched as he imagined what the scene might have looked like.

"How is a knife through the back minor?" Diana pushed for information.

Shaking his head and opening his mouth to speak, nothing came out for a moment before Peter came up with an answer. "I don't know."

Reaching up to put her hand on his shoulder, Diana tried to offer some physical reassurance. "I'm sure they'll be alright. The two of them have made it through this far."

Shuddering, but grateful for her effort, Peter could only hope. "It's this last part that I'm afraid of… then I also have to face Neal. What I said to him…" He hung his head.

"We heard boss." Diana admitted.

Jerking his head up, Peter looked at her in surprise and shame before turning away. "It's bad enough I said it to his face. Diana…"

"Peter." She stated his name like an order causing him to twitch. Knowing he was listening, she went on. "You were furious that your wife had been taken and angry that it appeared to be his fault. I would have said things to him myself, but considering you already had, we didn't pile on. What I'm saying is, we were all angry with him, and you had the most reason to be. Jones and I don't blame you for what you said, and I'm sure Neal will forgive you given time."

"I don't deserve it, he was innocent the whole time, and even if he had stolen the treasure, it was still Keller's choice to take her as revenge on me." He felt the need to talk, and since Chuck was keeping verbal distance, his most trusted agents were the next best options.

Clearing his throat from the other side, Jones made his presence known before joining the conversation; "Peter, what would you say if Neal had said the same thing to you, if your places were reversed and it was Sara who had been abducted?"

Breathing in an attempt to retain control over his emotions, Peter answered. "I would ultimately forgive him, knowing it was his fear speaking more than him. The difference is we wouldn't be having a big issue prior because I allegedly stole a treasure, and that added to the whole situation."

"And you haven't recovered from his alleged crimes before? Didn't you put him in prison for the pink diamond theft? He was innocent then too, and he didn't hold it against you. I mean, he even escaped to turn up at your house for help." Jones was helpful to point out. "Why would he let a bigger issue, like a priceless Nazi treasure, be treated too much differently? There was more suspicion which will take longer to move on from, but it can still be moved past."

Unable to argue with them, Peter did feel better for their words. "Thanks, I hope your right."

"You know we are." Jones stated. "How about we go get some real coffee from down the street? Take a walk, get some air. You've been cooped up in here far too long."

Going along with his agents, Peter felt the distraction might help him feel a little better. It would help some time pass if nothing else.

* * *

 **Undisclosed Location: Jungle Fortress**

Watching from their hiding spot, Anderson and Casey saw Bob and Elizabeth taken into the fortress with a band of guerilla soldiers. Apparently, this fortress had heard of their counterparts' demise through the news and were taking extra precautions.

Frustrated that the information had gotten out despite his efforts to shut down the communication system at each fortress, Anderson hit the ground in front of him. "Peter is so going to kill me!"

"Get your head into the game, or else they will beat him to it." Casey growled at him.

Shaking his head, Anderson forced himself to shove his personal feelings aside. Casey was right; he needed to focus on the situation before him instead of the reactions it could cause later. "We need to check with Michael to make sure he is safe, and then initiate our plans for infiltration as soon as it gets dark enough to approach."

Moving to follow Casey, Anderson joined the other agent in quietly sneaking back towards the heavier cover of the jungle.

Creeping up on Michael, they scared him causing him to jump spilling his canteen all down himself and to choke on the water he had in his mouth.

Hitting him on the back, Anderson helped him clear his throat until he could talk again. "Did anyone pass by you here?"

"No…I haven't… seen anyone since you left." He coughed a little more water out. "Why?"

"A guerilla troop captured Bob and Elizabeth. The soldiers took them into the fortress so we have to mount a takedown and rescue when it gets dark; which also means we need to move you to ensure you weren't seen and aren't found if they send another troop through here looking for the rest of us." Anderson worked with Casey to pick up the gear from around the space and packed everything into the off road vehicle they were using.

"What do you need me to do?" Michael was shaken. He didn't know how to handle the situation.

"Stay hidden close to the vehicle once we get you settled. Otherwise you'll need to wait." Anderson told him simply.

* * *

 **New York City: City Park**

Sipping their coffee and waking around the paths, Peter watched the civilians around them going about their exercise, play, and leisure activities. There were people playing with kids on playgrounds, throwing Frisbees for dogs, running, and sitting on benches reading. He wished he could be as carefree as they seemed to be.

"Did you know, your friend Carmichael was originally drafted his senior year of college? He didn't enter government work then because his friend took his place and got him expelled for cheating. The ironic part is the same friend turned around and threw him into the deep end five years later." Jones threw the information out as a conversation starter and distraction.

As they hoped, Peter bit the bait. "Do you know which friend did that to him?"

"According to my sources, the man was named Bryce Larkin, but the agent was killed in action some years ago. There is a cover story that it was a bank robbery in Washington, but my sources hint it was really something else." Diana added.

Finding himself smiling slightly, Peter was glad his agents had been up to their usual activities. "So, you've both been using your resources to learn about the spook in our office. Alright, what did you find?" He wasn't going to stop them, and he was too curious to let the opportunity pass.

"A lot… and yet not very much for such a celebrity. We know he allegedly came from a normal background until it was discovered who his parents were in government. His closest friends are his team, and Agent Bryce Larkin. His cover job is some kind of retail gig he had when he was drafted, and once he started working for the government the records are basically black ops. After that there are some hints and rumors, but not much of anything in our clearance levels." Diana summarized.

"We know he is the equivalent of a well decorated soldier, with more legends about him than known facts." Jones added.

"Was there anything about how he knows Neal? He talks about him like they know each other well, but Neal never mentioned him or an association with the CIA." Peter wondered.

"All we know is that Neal and Chuck met at college. Chuck said there was no record of Neal Caffrey in college, but that there wasn't one for Charles Carmichael either. He said they both inherited their father's problems and neither used their real names. Any ideas boss?" Diana tried to further engage Peter. This was the most life they'd seen in him aside from when Chuck and he talked before the restriction on their topics.

"Maybe Neal was one of the friends Chuck met in college, but disappeared to live as Neal? Who knows, Neal could even turn out to be this Agent Bryce Larkin. Did you find much about Bryce?" Peter shrugged. He had no idea and couldn't think about it too hard with more important things on his mind.

"Bryce's records are even more tightly sealed. There is the allusion to a normal life pre eighteen, his college records, and then it goes black ops just like Carmichael's records. We can't even get a description. I tried to go looking into the public records of his school, things like the year book, but got shut out. Someone in Washington doesn't want us poking around into this." Diana was disappointed to share.

"Don't worry. As much as I would like to know about Neal, I don't want to learn it at his detriment. If knowing the truth about him puts him in danger, then I'd rather he be an intriguing mystery." Peter had paused to take a seat and was staring out at the trees blowing with the breeze. "Satiating my curiosity is not worth his safety."

"None of us want to put Neal in any more danger than he is already facing out there, but we're agents. We research and get to the bottom of things. It's our job and a part of who we are. Learning who Neal is will take time, because we can still learn who he is now, and that's what matters." Diana stated.

Clicking coffee cups with her, Jones agreed. "Here, here. If Neal should turn out to be a secret undercover agent, then we'll learn that eventually. But if he is really a criminal trying to reform, then his history as a criminal is only so important compared to the man he is working to become."

Genuinely smiling, Peter wondered. "Can you imagine, Neal an undercover agent?" The agents didn't laugh as he expected. "Has it crossed your mind?"

Twisting his cup in his hand, Jones was the first to speak. "What do we know about him? Really? We don't have anything about his past pre-eighteen, there is a trail of alleged crimes he is suspected of, and then your chase that landed him in jail leading up to his agreement with us. Then Neal somehow knows who the boss is for the CIA in order to request participation in the operation, he is allowed to participate despite his criminal history, and finally the agent sent to our office is an old school friend of his. Neal went to college under a different name not on our record, and has ties to the government we never noticed. Could he be a secret agent undercover? Possibly."

"If he is, he first owes me a spar so I can kick his butt. Then we'll need to figure out what that does in regards to our work. Otherwise, he is still our friend, so much of life would probably go on as usual." Diana stated before taking another sip of her coffee.

* * *

Thank you for reading, reviewing/commenting, leaving kudos, choosing to favorite, and following my stories and I :D


	14. Chapter 14

**Danger**

* * *

 **Undisclosed Location: Jungle Fortress**

Infiltrating the fortress, Anderson and Casey marched about as if they belonged. It wasn't hard to enter the fortress, just a little tougher than the rest of them had been since these soldiers were looking for them.

Keeping their focus, they bided their time until they could separate to their agendas. Anderson split off to tackle the technological approach, while Casey went for the brunt force approach to retrieve the hostages.

Walking into the control room, Anderson had waited until it was at its busiest to slip through and do a quick link up with his phone. By having the worm prepared for a quicker upload, he was able to do the job in less time. This time, he had additional work to do which involved taking a seat at the actual console. Performing his role as smoothly as his neighbor, Neal pretended he had been at the work for years so it was difficult to notice the difference between him and the rotating staff already present.

Listening through his ear piece, Anderson heard Casey march down towards the cells and integrate himself with the guards. Taking his place, he held sway over the hostages and pretended to be as cruel as the soldiers around him. He yanked their chains causing them to cry out, kicked at them, and shouted words they didn't understand. Smiling to himself, Anderson was glad to hear Bob and Elizabeth playing along with him. They reacted to Casey as they did to any other guard.

Taking advantage of a slight lull pre change of the guard, Anderson slipped another worm into their system that controlled their explosive weaponry. Then he initiated some commands into it to cause most of their missile silos to self destruct. He was dismayed to learn there were two kept on a separate system, but they were marked as mobile control so he needed to find something smaller in order to take them out. As it was, he was being pushed for the shift change and couldn't work any longer.

Walking down the hall exchanging general conversation with another technician, Anderson was fiddling with his phone in his pocket. Initiating the commands to unleash the worm, he pretended to be surprised by the alarms his damage was causing. Turning to run back with the other man, he detoured down a side hallway to go his own way before reaching the main control room again. His purpose was in another area of the fortress.

Sneaking his way through the hallways, Anderson made his way out of the building and headed towards the nearest armory to begin sabotaging the weaponry. No one was arming yet, but he wasn't taking any chances.

Below, Casey took advantage of the distraction to send the other guards back upstairs to assist with the issue and to defend against invasion. He was to remain watching over the prisoners to ensure no one came to free them.

Once he was alone, he mimicked Anderson's previous rescue to release the hostages and started walking them up towards the exit.

Passing the main floor, Casey continued up into the higher levels of the fortress before pointing out the army prepared for a ground level escape. "We would be dead if we tried that. This lot knows we've been hitting the rest of their fortresses and are a bit more prepared." He commented to the civilians peaking out beside him.

Speaking through the system, Anderson warned them that the place was also rigged to explode. "They seem to have a win or die trying approach. If we don't disarm them, they are going to blow us up with them." He grunted as he worked on another armory and the explosives around it.

"Great. This is just keeps getting better." Casey growled before shooting a soldier that had been sneaking up on Anderson.

"Thanks." Anderson muttered as he finished the location he had been working on. Taking off at a run, he moved to join the rest of the group. Their cover was blown, so it was a matter of getting them out alive and escaping through the jungle while the fortress blew up behind them. There was no other way to accomplish the mission.

* * *

 **New York City: City Park**

Amused, Peter was glad Diana would accept Neal, even as an agent. "Neal lying to you isn't a problem?"

"That's why I would kick his butt sparring." Diana grinned evilly.

Leaning back in his seat, Jones easily threw out his reaction. "I wouldn't help him with his paperwork so much anymore. He wouldn't have the excuse of being unfamiliar with government methods, so he could do his own work."

Chuckling, Peter couldn't help it.

Smiling at each other, Jones and Diana were glad to hear him sounding more normal.

"What would you do if he turned out to be an undercover agent?" Jones threw the question at the boss, just to see what his reaction would be.

Calming down to think, Peter was still smiling some at the thoughts of the other's reactions. "I don't know. Right now, I'd want to give him a hug to thank him for brining my wife back safely, and to apologize for what I said." Gazing off into the distance, he seemed to be lost in thought. His agents didn't disturb him, so he had the freedom to organize his thoughts. "If Neal turned out to be an undercover agent, I guess there are a few things I would do."

"And they would be…?" Diana prodded. She wasn't smiling as much anymore, Peter had killed some of the mood by bringing up the situation between him and Neal again, but she wanted to progress the conversation back to its lighter subject.

"Well, to start, I would remove the wasted effort of him being watched by the Marshals, and his agency could pay his bills." Peter listed a few steps that would be necessary.

"I don't hear a removal of the anklet in there. Could you let him remove the anklet?" Jones laughed.

Smirking, Peter caught the humor. "Who knows, maybe we could find a way to salvage something of that… for my sanity at least. I sleep better knowing that little dot indicates where he is."

Continuing to banter, the agents enjoyed the conversation and discussed various things that would change about the office if Neal ever turned out to be an undercover agent.

* * *

 **Undisclosed Location: Jungle Fortress**

Leaping onto the roof above the others, Anderson ran down the length of the building occasionally ducking instinctively as soldiers fired at him from below. Reaching the end of the roof, he skidded to the edge allowing himself to fall off with reduced speed before quickly half climbing and half falling a story to the roof below.

Landing down behind a cooling system, he had something of a shelter while he talked to Casey. "Take Bob down to the next level, I'll blow the building behind us while El climbs down, and then follow after." He instructed.

Growling, Casey let him have his way and followed the younger agent's lead. Climbing down the back side, there weren't many soldiers there and Anderson was easily able to keep them occupied until Casey had Bob safely settled below.

Then, before Anderson could send El down or move to set off any of the explosives, someone else had a similar idea from the soldiers below. A few shots rang out, but they ignited the explosives for the building they were on.

Noticing where the bullets were striking, Anderson shouted to get Casey's attention before shoving Elizabeth off the roof to his waiting arms below.

Moving to jump at a different angle, Anderson was hit with the force of the explosion first. Losing his balance, he was pushed outwards and away from the building causing him to fall twice as far. Throwing himself into a rough roll, he reduced the damage as he went acrossed the roof below. Still, there was the abrupt end of his slide when he hit another roof ventilation system that knocked him unconscious.

Screaming as she fell, Elizabeth couldn't help but react to the surprising fall. Then she was abruptly silenced when she landed into Casey falling to the ground with him due to his minimal preparation and her weight.

Feeling herself cast aside quickly, she didn't immediately understand what was going on, but then her mind registered the explosions and shaking of the building.

Bob grabbed her hand and drug her along behind him as they scurried to follow Casey. He was still recovering from his injuries, but the more he had time to recover, and the more things grew dangerous, the more he seemed to cast focus on his injuries aside.

Seeing where they were going, Elizabeth gasped in horror as she saw Anderson sprawled on the roof below them. With tears glistening in her eyes, she struggled to make the climb next to Bob and was grateful when he murmured words of reassurance to help her slow down enough not to fall.

Reaching the same level of as Anderson, she hurried to his side where Casey was checking for a pulse. "Is he alive?"

Growling, Casey pulled Anderson up onto his shoulder and carried him along much like the man had carried Bob. Then raising his weapon, he began to open fire on any explosive in range causing the soldiers below to either seek cover or scatter for their lives.

"Move!" the colonel ordered the two people with him and pointed towards the easiest means to get down to ground level.

Taking the lead, Bob winced from time to time, but was moving as quickly as he could towards the nearest exit. Grabbing a pair of guns, he even fired off some shots igniting key explosives to help provide additional cover for their departure.

Between the noise and chaos, Elizabeth simply focused on Bob and followed him through the smoke and noise until she blinked and realized they were outside in the open country fleeing while explosions roared behind them.

Ducking into the jungle, they didn't slow down, but had to shift positions with Casey taking more of a lead since their escape route had changed.

When the group burst into the clearing, Elizabeth felt weak with relief to see the escape vehicle being cleared by Michael. Hurrying to help, she yanked off various greenery until they had the camouflage removed.

Passing Anderson into the back seat, Casey ignored his groans and barked commands for Elizabeth to take care of him with Michael. Bob was directed to the passenger seat and the two standing agents went to work getting them out of the jungle.

* * *

 **New York City: City**

Feeling his stomach growl, Peter didn't need to mention his hunger as the next rumble was audible to the agents sitting next to him.

"How about we go get lunch and then head back to the office?" Jones suggested tossing his cup into the nearby waste basket.

"I would kill for a slice of New York style pizza right now. How about you, boss?" Diana agreed to the proposal.

"Doesn't seem to be any point in arguing, considering that last one was audible." He shrugged. His mood was still fairly high so he wasn't against prolonging the break with a meal.

"That settles it then." Jones smiled before discussing options with Diana. They managed to get Peter's opinion a little bit, but he wasn't as concerned with what he ate as long as he satiated his hunger.

Reaching a local pizzeria, Jones and Diana selected tables near the front with windows and light to keep the mood from digressing back to gloomy topics.

They were carefully picking through daily topics around the office when a familiar figure walked by the window, stopped, and came back to verify their presence.

Waving at Sara Ellis, Diana and Jones welcomed her to come in and join them. Peter was slowly eating a few pieces, so they had enough pizza to spare a slice or two. Nodding and pointing towards the door, Sara indicated her agreement before walking away again.

Within a few moments, she was standing next to their table awkwardly. She obviously had a lot of questions, but wasn't certain what her reception would be. Although Jones and Diana had flagged her welcome, Peter had ducked his head with a red face.

Looking up at her ashamed, Peter gestured toward the seat beside him. "I'm sorry, Sara. You were right, Neal was never guilty of stealing the treasure, and I accused him in error. It was wrong of me to be so angry at him, and to vent my fury at you." Taking a deeper breath, he finished his apology. "I hope you can forgive me for my behavior."

Blinking away a few tears, Sara tried to keep them at bay as she took her seat. "Nothing has happened to Neal and Elizabeth? They're alright, aren't they?" She feared something drastic brining this surprising apology on.

"No, not that I know of anyway. Last I heard, El was fine and Neal was injured, but would be alright. Did you hear something?" Peter straightened his posture and leaned towards her.

Shaking her head, Sara hadn't even known that much. "No, I didn't even know if Neal was alive, or if Elizabeth was okay. Last I saw you, you were so angry…" Her tears were getting the better of her and washing away the makeup hiding the signs of her fatigue. She had been worried, but no one had contacted her.

Realizing she had even less information than he did, Peter immediately rectified that somewhat. "The CIA sent an agent to our office, Chuck, the same guy that entered when you were last there. He is an old friend of Neal's and has told me a few things." Unable to hold back, Peter filled her in a little bit and promised to tell her more if she could accompany them to the office. "They're worried about endangering them, but you should know something of what is going on. You've probably been about as worried as I have." His voice softened as he took in the normally strong woman before him. She was still wiping tears from her face, but she had regained some control.

Boxing up the leftover food, Jones and Diana knew someone would be hungry enough to eat them at the office. Then getting up, the group began the trip to the Bureau.

Grabbing Peter by the sleeve, Sara stopped him after Jones and Diana had stepped away. When he turned to look at her, she tried to get a small smile for the agent. "I forgave you before the day was over, but I'm glad to see you've come to your senses."

"I think we all are." Pulling her into a sideways hug, Peter then walked beside her back to the office.

* * *

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	15. Chapter 15

**Returning**

* * *

 **Undisclosed Location: Jungle Drive**

Even with the hat and glasses in the way, Elizabeth could see the pain on Anderson's face as he was regaining consciousness.

He groaned from time to time as the vehicle hit a particularly rough patch jostling his entire body. Each time they hit a bump, his teeth would collide while his head shook increasing his headache. The man was obviously miserable, but a groan or hiss was the only noise he made.

"How badly are you hurt?" Elizabeth asked in concern when she noticed he was awake.

Moving to sit up, Anderson was thrown towards the floor as the vehicle drove through a washed out stretch of road.

Biting his lip to avoid crying out, he braced himself until the jostling stopped. Then he allowed Elizabeth and Michael to help him climb back up onto the seat. The other two strapped him in between them and he took a few moments to analyze himself.

"Anderson?" Elizabeth was concerned and considered asking him the question again.

"I don't think I was hurt too bad. Definitely some bruising, my head was hit hard enough to knock me out, and I don't think there are any burns from the heat. At least rolling slowed my speed so I don't think I have a concussion..." He summarized as best as he could tell for himself while bouncing through the jungle.

Seeing the blood on his lip, Elizabeth almost asked if he could be bleeding internally, but Anderson shook his head slowly at her first.

"I bit my lip while I was on the floor there. My ribs are definitely bruised, maybe a weakening towards fracturing if I took any more hits, but they don't feel broken." Anderson pulled a kerchief out of his pocket to dab the blood away.

"Don't tell me you intend to go on another mission?" Elizabeth was reeling back to launch into a speech. She might not be Peter, but she could let the man have it for such an act of stupidity.

Chuckling, Anderson seemed to recognize her expression. "Save it for another day, El. Next stop is New York City. After we report and drop you off there, Michael will be sent back to California while Bob will catch up with his family wherever they make arrangements for."

Too excited to recognize the familiar chuckle, Elizabeth was focused on seeing her husband again soon.

Gabbing onto hand holds or bracing for the change, the passengers were thrown about as the vehicle turned at nearly full speed onto a more civilized road and were headed for their last flight.

* * *

 **New York City: FBI White Collar**

Walking into the office, Peter was still chatting with Sara while Jones and Diana joined in the conversation from time to time.

Seeing Chuck fidgeting at the first desk, Peter stopped and blurted. "They're still alright… aren't they?"

Wincing, Chuck seemed to brace himself for sharing the news. "The last location… they were waiting for them thanks to the news broadcasts."

The entire room fell silent. Were their friends alright?

"Chuck!" Peter nearly shouted at the man needing him to continue.

"Elizabeth and my father were captured by guerilla soldiers. They were taken hostage for a few hours so there is bruising from the chains and being kicked by the guards. Neal… was hit by explosives and thrown off of a building. I don't know the extent of his injuries." Chuck was pale and they realized he was fidgeting to hide the shakes. He was stressed and couldn't do anything to help so his emotions were channeled into the physical motion.

Paling as well, Peter stumbled back a few steps to lean on the nearest desk. His mind was filled with whirling images of his wife hurting in a cell with chains and Neal being blown off of a building. Sometimes the guards shook the chains and kicked relatively lightly, while Neal was just dropped into a roll when he landed before getting up relatively unharmed. Then other times, the guards yanked the chains hard enough to throw Elizabeth around with the force cutting into her soft skin before they kicked hard enough to cause severe bruising, while Neal would land burned and peppered with shrapnel. The second image of Neal was accompanied by him being checked only to see the blood flowing from his mouth, a puddle expanding beneath him, and any pulse would stop with his breath as soon as he was flipped over to reveal more gory injuries.

As the room began to swirl around him, Peter suddenly found Diana standing right in front of him. The shock of her slapping him hard acrossed the face snapped him out of the shock he had been entering into.

"Ow." He automatically said as his hand went to his cheek.

"It's Neal and Elizabeth he's talking about. They'll both be alright, but you can't let those fears get the better of you." She was observing him closely to see if he would need another slap. "Are you in the here and now?"

"Yeah." Peter shifted his face wondering if she might have punched him instead of slapping. "Thanks, I know I needed that… but right now I'm kind of wondering what your right hook would feel like, even though I don't want to find out."

Smiling slightly, Diana was pleased to hear him talking more normally. "That was just a slap, but now you've been warned not to cross me."

Regaining his bearings, Peter turned back towards Sara to see her engulfed in Jones' arms as she cried on his shoulder. She had remained frozen in place until the agent approached her and supported her by the arm. Then with someone to lean on, she couldn't help but lean into him and started crying.

Shifting towards standing, Peter barely left the desk before he lowered himself back down against it. Lifting his hand up, he looked at the tremors knowing it wasn't only his hands that were shaking. "I don't think this situation is going to go away quickly, no matter how it ends."

Putting a supporting hand on his arm, Diana squeezed strongly. "It sounds like Neal and Elizabeth have been helping each other as best they can, and once they get back, no one will be alone to deal with the repercussions."

The conversation about what had been happening was forgotten in light of more pressing concerns. Everyone was eager to know how their friends were so there was a hovering mass revolving around Neal's desk and Chuck. It seemed like someone was always watching the cell phone lying on the desk, waiting for news.

* * *

 **New York City: John F Kennedy International Airport**

Gently shaking Anderson awake as the plane made its final decent towards landing, Elizabeth was glad he had slept a little bit.

The agent had spent part of the trip with Casey checking his wounds to ensure nothing was too serious. Then they had worked on their mission paperwork towards wrapping everything up to their flight home. Finally, after the work was as completed as it could get, Anderson leaned back to rest for the last little while of their flight.

Seeing the agent stir, Elizabeth regretted waking him up, but knew they would be deplaning shortly so he might as well brace for the landing if it was rough. Considering the turbulence they were hitting so far, the final touchdown might jar the already injured agent.

"Are we landing?" Anderson asked groggily at first.

"Yes, we're less than five minutes to the tarmac. It's been a rough flight as we've neared the coast, so I wanted you to have the chance to brace for a potentially rough landing." Elizabeth explained while watching him.

Nodding, Anderson started to shake himself awake before wincing and thinking better of it. His injuries might not be serious, but they were extensive. "Ugh, that was a bad idea." He muttered as he decided to rub his eyes instead before stretching. It was less painful and helped him to get his eyes open before circulating his blood.

Watching him worriedly, Elizabeth knew there was still the chance of infection. Anderson was running a low grade temp which kept his cheeks slightly flushed. Whether it was exhaustion or illness was still a tossup based on opinion though, and would be until they got him to another doctor for a checkup.

"I'm alright, El. Just focus on seeing Peter again soon." He attempted to redirect her attention away from him. He knew his cover was all but blown with her, but he was attempting to retain any semblance of his secret he could.

Not taking her eyes off of him, Elizabeth knew she had to say something before they landed and were engulfed by the public. "I think I know something of what Peter said to you." Continuing despite Anderson's wince, she had one request to make. "Even though it hurt you, I need you to give him the chance to apologize. You're our friend, and I don't want the two of you estranged over a hurtful fight that has been hurting you both ever since."

"It wasn't a fight." Anderson muttered as the plane hit the runway.

The noise was loud and nearly covered up his words, but Elizabeth still caught them. Feeling her tears well up, she brushed them away during the distraction of the rough landing. Anderson's words meant Peter had been so hurt that he lost control and said things he couldn't think on any other day, and Neal hadn't done anything to defend himself. It didn't bode well for their friendship in the short term, but she hoped they would get the chance to repair the damage. "Please, give him the chance to apologize, Neal." She almost whispered to the man.

Unable to ignore the pleading in the words, Anderson turned to face her, in essences answering to his cover role. A part of him wanted to ask what he should do if Peter didn't want to apologize, but one look at her teary eyes told him to keep his thoughts to himself.

Sniffling and pulling herself together as the plane taxied to a stop, Elizabeth was surprised when they didn't pull up to a terminal.

"We're getting special treatment to avoid the public. Apparently, someone leaked to the news that we were going to be coming through here so there are reporters everywhere through the airport." Anderson explained as he directed her to follow Casey off of the plane with the others.

Descending onto the tarmac, she was relieved to put her feet on American soil again. The trip home was nearly over. Feeling more excited, she followed the rest of the group into a military vehicle that was then escorted away.

* * *

 **New York City: FBI White Collar**

Sitting at the conference room table eating his breakfast sandwich between sips of coffee, Peter couldn't help but feel grateful for the group he had around him.

During the long hours of the night, their numbers had drastically reduced down to Peter, Sara, Chuck, Jones, and Diana. The rest of the office had left them waiting for news with the request for calls if anything came.

Since no call came during the night, the group had passed the time talking. First Peter fulfilled his promise in telling Sara, Jones, and Diana more of what had been going on. Then the group had discussed who they were and their general lives with the relative stranger present. In return, Chuck opened up and talked about himself as much as he could. By morning, they were feeling rather chummy.

With the rising of the sun, they had dispersed to freshen up and get breakfast before rejoining as they were in the conference room.

Enjoying their respective morning repast, the group was again engaged in general conversation when Chuck's phone rang. Falling silent, the group hung on bated breath while he answered it.

When he ended the call with a slight smile, the group breathed again as it grew to spread acrossed his face.

"Although Neal was hurt, it wasn't serious. They're more worried about him getting infected from the various injuries he already has. Now that he's back in the States though, he should be able to relax and heal just fine." He relieved them of their concerns for their friend's health and created an opening for the next news he had to share.

"The States?" Peter completely forgot about his food and coffee. Even a good Italian roast didn't stand a chance against this news.

Smiling broadly, Chuck was pleased to announce, "Not only are they in the United States airspace, but they're in the city. My boss will debrief them once they finish landing, and then they'll be here in a few hours."

Cheering, hugging, and crying, the group was elated with the news.

Returning to his seat, Peter was overwhelmed for a moment. He had spent so much time angry and then terrified to his core for his loved ones safety, that he was almost having a tough time comprehending that they were safe. "I can't believe it's over…"

"It's not." Chuck sobered. He had briefly forgotten about the secondary part in the excitement of the good news.

Quieting down, the group wondered what he meant.

"Someone leaked the news of which airport they're landing at so the area is swarming with reporters wanting to find out why the series of events that have been sweeping the globe occurred. Fortunately, my boss learned of the situation and has a military guard on hand to transport them. Once they arrive here, my family has been called in to full active duty help make sure nothing happens. There is a chance that some remnant of the organization is still hiding within government ranks with plans to finish." The merriment was gone, replaced by grave concern. Trouble was still brewing, but this time they could be helpful.

"What can we do?" Jones asked the question for them all.

"My boss doesn't want you specifically involved, but if anything happens, then follow your training based on the situation." Chuck authorized them to do what they could. "Considering their attack on my father, and some of the information other investigators are getting, they're… messing with things outside of your clearance levels." He couldn't outright tell them that they might be fighting Intersects, but he could warn them to be careful.

"And your family is being brought in?" Sara asked. "If it's some kind of big government secret even the FBI doesn't get to know, why do they?"

Smirking slightly, Chuck could see why Neal liked her. "My family originated the technology, so we've all been brought into things in some means or another. Most of us are agents, but the rest are skilled doctors. We've actually gotten kind of used to things like this, sadly enough." He shrugged.

The others were amazed by how easily he accepted the situation. Then following his example, they began to make their phone calls notifying their friends and the team that the former hostages would be arriving home before the end of the day.

* * *

Thank you everyone for reading, reviewing/commenting, leaving kudos, and choosing to favorite :D


	16. Chapter 16

**Home**

* * *

 **New York City: Government Building**

Although Elizabeth wasn't familiar with the building their procession drove into, she could recognize that it was government with a military presence.

Pulling into an underground garage, the group was directed to leave the vehicle before being split up.

"Agents Casey…" A colonel began to direct them only to be interrupted by Anderson.

"Anderson and Bob." His voice was firm as he indicated himself, nodded towards Bob, and looked back at the colonel.

Glaring, the man continued. "Anderson and Bob, are to accompany myself to the conference room. The general is waiting for you in person to debrief." Then turning to the two remaining civilians, he finished his orders. "You will be escorted by the captain here to clean up and change. Unfortunately, we only have military clothing on hand for you, but it will suffice until you get to your homes." Dismissing the lower ranking soldier, he sent the civilians away.

Glancing back over her shoulder, Elizabeth could just see the respect on many of the soldiers faces as they marched the agents away. This time their identities weren't unknown speculation, she suspected these people knew the agents for something of who they really were, and that knowledge didn't seem to diminish the respect and admiration either, it only seemed to increase it.

Smiling as she continued on her way, Elizabeth was glad. Glad they were on American soil, she would be seeing her husband soon, things would hopefully be on their way to reparation between the partners, and the agents were back amongst people they knew and could hopefully trust. Things were looking up in her opinion.

Taking her time through the shower and dressing, Elizabeth knew she wasn't going to look her best, but it felt good to be clean again and wearing fresh clothes. Smiling as she went through the process, she was excited to be home for so many reasons, and it didn't take her long to become anxious for the trip to the Bureau.

Heading off to find the others, she met a soldier waiting outside to take her to the cafeteria. Not surprised by this, Elizabeth made conversation with her as they walked discussing their homes and general points of conversation to pass the time.

Crossing a hallway just outside of the cafeteria, Elizabeth was certain she caught a glimpse of a tall and dark haired soldier talking to a short red headed female officer. Stepping back to check if it was Neal or Anderson, she could see them standing several offices down from her, far enough she couldn't hear their conversation over the noise from the personnel eating close by.

Based on her observation, the soldiers were familiar with each other and seemed to be engaged in discussing something serious. The tall one was looking down with an uncertain posture, while the short one was looking up with an unexpected softness. Giving what appeared to be an order, the shorter red head took on a more stern expression before marching away. Left standing behind her, the tall soldier resembling Neal appeared to sigh before following into a nearby office.

Uncertain what had transpired, Elizabeth hoped it wasn't orders for Neal to leave them. She had only just learned more about him, and she knew Peter needed to make his peace with the man after their aggressive encounter. Hoping for a chance to talk to the agent later, Elizabeth had no other choice than to continue in her direction towards breakfast.

* * *

 **New York City: FBI White Collar**

The teams all gathered around the office much as they had been for the previous days of investigation. It was rather crowded with White Collar, Missing Persons, and Organized Crime all about, but the teams were able to navigate around each other well enough. Although they knew the situation was coming to a resolution, there was still some paperwork they found to be completed… that and nosy agents who wanted to see the finish of the drama they had witnessed.

Milling about busily, everyone managed to fill their time in between watching the doors and kept their ears cocked listening for the elevator.

As the morning progressed, June was quick to show up dressed elegantly. She joined Diana and Sara towards the back of the office. Diana was working on a cold case and occasionally joining in conversation with the other ladies.

Jones sat at the desk next door grinning at some points, joining at others, and pretending to be busy with his own cold case at sill other points. He was friendly with all three ladies, but could only participate so much in some of their conversations.

Then to the surprise of most, even Mozzie made another appearance. He was eager to see his friend. So much so, that he braved another trip in the realm of 'the man.'

Choosing to take the space between June and Jones, Mozzie made a general nuisance of himself to the agent with his pacing and remarks. He enjoyed throwing out conspiracies based on anything government Jones might utter.

Hearing the elevator ding again, the group was disappointed to see Chuck enter the room, take Neal's fedora, and flip it onto his own head. Turning to the office with a grin, he shrugged. "I used to steal Neal's clothes back in the day; I think he would see the humor in this." Running his hand along the brim sharply, he winked and left the office again.

Settling back down, everyone was smiling to some extent. An agent stealing Neal's things and being annoying, now there was a nice twist of events.

* * *

 **New York City: Escort**

Returning to the vehicle, Elizabeth generally ignored their escorting procession. It was rather easy to do too, considering how the vehicles left marginally before and after them to avoid making an obvious approach.

"Are they still worried about traitors?" She asked Anderson and Casey. The entire group was still together, forming the procession to the FBI Offices.

"Yes. Don't underestimate the importance of what they're after." Anderson answered while Casey grunted an affirmative without giving any details.

Smiling slightly, Elizabeth knew Anderson had been trying to play a cold and focused agent to keep his cover, but as it was all but blown anyway, he couldn't help but be polite.

Watching out the window, she looked for familiar buildings and tried to read signs for crossing streets to get her bearings. Although she had lived in New York City for years, she was in a neighbor that wasn't overly familiar, until they had driven a few blocks. Then she started to see more familiar details.

Pretending not to watch, Anderson still enjoyed her excitement and his eyes reflected that even if he wasn't smiling as broadly as she was.

Grinning over her shoulder at Anderson, Elizabeth's face fell as she remembered the fear. Had Anderson gotten orders to leave? Determined to get an answer, she reached out and touched his arm. "You aren't being ordered to go away… are you?"

Startled, he shifted under her touch. "What gives you that idea?"

Testing her theory, Elizabeth told him what she had seen.

"What tells you that was me?" Anderson smirked at her. She hadn't seen him without his hat and glasses yet. Even though she was very certain of his identity, she still questioned it enough for him to hope to retain a sense of doubt.

"I saw your back without the hat and glasses, and I've been around you a lot in recent times." Then she cast him a glance not to deny it, she had been around him as Neal and knew how to pick him from a crowd too.

Sighing in resignation, he answered. "I can neither confirm nor deny your speculation."

"On the orders to leave, or your identity?" She pushed for clarification.

Glancing sideways at her, Anderson made her work for it. "Your speculation of my identity."

Huffing, but showing a glint of humor, she asked again. "Alright then, do you have orders to leave?"

"Not officially, but it is a possibility depending on how much damaged this series of events has done to my cover and the operation I'm on loan for." He gave her the win although it didn't entirely ease her fears.

"Nothing imminent, but always possible." She sighed. It wasn't as bad as it could be; it was better than an immediate transfer.

Losing some of her excitement, she settled back to watch the buildings pass by progressively. She was still happy to be headed for the Bureau, but she also had something less pleasant to consider which tempered the joy.

"Don't dwell on it. You're about to be reunited with your husband in two more blocks. Cheer up!" Anderson ordered.

"Fine, bossy britches." She threw a saucy smile over her shoulder and was rewarded with a playful smirk on his face in response to her unexpected behavior. "I'm not afraid of you."

"You should be." He answered her seriously.

"Perhaps the agent part of you, but not you." Elizabeth was determined not to fall for his distancing mechanism as the van rolled to a stop in front of the Federal Building.

When it was her turn to get out of the car, she threw one last request to him while he waited to exit behind her. "Don't forget, you are still our friend, and I want you to give Peter a chance to apologize. No disappearing and hiding behind government work or something."

Opening his mouth to say something, Anderson closed it quickly before following her out and taking her arm to escort her into the building.

Aware that he hadn't promised or made any comment, Elizabeth was watching him closely so she was the only one who noticed his reaction to a man wearing Neal's fedora.

"Chuck… you'd better put that back when you're done playing with it, and if you mess it up..." He grumbled at the man.

"Don't worry, I only intend to borrow it for a while. And you must be Mrs. Burke." The agent redirected the conversation towards her.

"Yes, and you are…?" She shook his proffered hand.

"Special Agent Charles Carmichael, but you can call me Chuck. This nerd and I are old school friends and counterparts in the agency. I've been holding down the fort here as the agency representative and his backup if anything too serious happened on your adventures." He seemed playful and relieved.

"You're dad's back there with Casey. Michael Barnes is going through security so you can run into him or avoid him depending on if you want to keep your cover." Anderson pointed back over his shoulder.

Nodding, Chuck answered. "I'm supposed to avoid him if possible. It's not like we were overly close back in college, but he might still recognize me and have to sign confidentiality forms. However, I plan on at least saying hi to my dad, even though we can't catch up yet."

Clipping his old friend on the back, Anderson sent him away before going through a separate row of security with Casey. Elizabeth went through quickly being familiar with the building, so she waited with Michael by the elevators until Anderson and Bob caught up. Casey had stayed behind, presumably to work with the other agents on the ground floor.

Once they were in the elevator, Anderson pushed the button. "Twenty-first floor, coming up."

* * *

 **New York City: FBI White Collar**

The afternoon had rolled around, but no one was eager to get lunch despite rumbling stomachs. Everyone was too curious.

Hearing the elevator bell ding again, the room barely glanced in its direction and looked away, almost missing the entourage about to enter the space. Then spotting the military dress of the people filing off, everyone dropped what they were doing and watched as only one familiar face entered the office.

"Elizabeth." Peter was standing at the top of the stairs having come out of his office to see who was entering the floor. An action he had repeated every time the elevator arrived on their level.

Everyone was watching the situation, so no one missed the soft caressing way Peter said her name, or the way she appeared to relax at hearing it as she watched him walk down the stairs. Many smiled, but the joy of reunion wasn't complete.

"Where is Neal?" Sara asked in concern. "Did he come back with you, or was he brought back in custody?" She was looking their group over, but hadn't recognized the one she was looking for.

Peter paused on the steps with a frown as he also looked over the group before slowly finishing his decent. His wondering eyes weren't seeing their secondary target amongst the strangers either.

Grinning unexpectedly, Elizabeth simply said, "See, and we're not the only ones..." in the direction of the agent standing nearest her.

Not seeming to pay attention, he was far more focused on the hallway behind them.

Following his gaze, the agents also looked to the hallway just in time to see a group of men walk into the office fully armed and opening fire.

Moving into action, Bob grabbed Michael and dove for cover while Anderson swung Elizabeth into him and bent low to avoid the worst of the bullets. The room heard him hiss as he was grazed with one bullet missing his head but knocking his hat off. Then pushing Elizabeth towards Peter at the bottom of the stairs, her hair caught his glasses and pulled them off while he shouted for the agent to take his wife into shelter.

Meeting his friend's eyes, Peter caught his wife and tried to convey something of his regret in the moment before he took Elizabeth down behind a desk. Crouching low, he peaked over to observe what happened next.

* * *

Thank you everyone for reading, following, leaving kudos, reviewing, and choosing to favorite my stories and I:D


	17. Chapter 17

**Conflict**

* * *

 **New York City: FBI White Collar**

Putting his arm around his wife to keep her close as she shifted to a viewing position next to him, Peter continued to watch over the desk they were crouched behind.

From their point of observation, they watched the shuffle of agents as everyone either moved for cover to get out of the way, or stood trying to find a means of fighting back. They didn't know who these people were, but figured they were connected to the recent series of events.

Pointing a gun at the nearest agent to move, one of the intruders threatened. "Your friends may have taken out most of our weaponry, but we do still have a large bomb and two missiles. The bomb is in the building and will be detonated if you try to do anything against us, and the missiles are within firing range to damage the city. Don't tempt us into using them."

While the agent held up his hands showing he was unarmed, the intruders fanned out acrossed the entrance area allowing more to enter.

There were ten of the main group, they seemed to rank as muscle henchmen, but three more came in behind them. These were the most dangerous of the group. One was handling the bomb to ensure it wasn't tampered with and could be used at anytime, while the other two appeared to be unarmed.

Deciding that looks were deceiving, Peter figured these two were the most armed, considering how the rest of the group gave them respectful space. However, their weaponry wasn't obvious like the guns and bomb was.

Holding his ground in the middle of the room, Neal was the only person who hadn't shifted beyond protecting Elizabeth.

Once he had pushed her away and shared a glance with Peter, Neal fully submerged into his cold agent persona before turning to meet his opponents. "So, you have successfully created two super soldiers. Are you here to show them off?"

"What would you know Caffrey? We were told you were only some White Collar con we could use for our break in since you resemble a former agent of the field." One of the henchmen sneered.

Silencing his underling, one of the leaders stepped forward. "This is Neal Caffrey?"

"Yes, sir." came the dutiful response.

"So, you're the one who used a phone and a paperclip to nearly decimate our organization. No wonder we underestimated you so poorly… Agent Larkin." The man stood sizing Neal up. "I've heard legends of you for years. You're the great agent who infiltrated the Ring, Orion's protégé, and the creator of team Bartowski, otherwise known as Agent Carmichael and his team. Now meeting you in person, you don't seem so intimidating."

"Sorry to disappoint you. I thought you would've had more than meek insults in your repertoire." Neal calmly answered. His voice was the hardest steel Peter had ever heard, and his stance almost seemed to be the only thing holding him up.

Observing his friend while the intruder glared at him, Peter finally noticed the lines ripped in his shirt… the bullets he had protected Elizabeth from had grazed Neal close enough to rip his shirt and knock his hat off. Based on the complete rips, the grazes would have penetrated his skin causing some minor damage, and the center one traced up close to his spine. "His back…" Peter whispered as he shuttered, understanding how close Neal had come to a more serious injury.

Hearing a gasp beside him, Peter knew his wife had found the injuries too. She whispered back to him. "He's already covered in grazes, a knife would acrossed his back, and the bruising from impact after the explosion… That isn't going to help his odds of infection." There was a hint of tears to her words.

Feeling her hand clasp the one he had around her, Peter squeezed comfortingly. There wasn't time for anymore conversation because the argument seemed to be escalating one sided. Neal was still calmly facing his opponents, but the intruder who had recognized him was growing furious at his lack of response.

"I'm going to ensure you're dead before this is done, Larkin! You've been the bane of our existence. As long as you live, organizations like ours struggle to gain supremacy." The man was positively fuming.

Throwing out a derisive laugh, Neal wasn't daunted. "Better men have tried before and failed. Besides, if entire empires of you feel threatened by me, what am I to fear from just one?"

Going completely calm and smirking, the intruder had a complete change of demeanor. "You're exhausted. The only reason you're standing so rigid is so that you don't fall down. This will be easy, and we won't even have to risk much to finish the job so many have 'tried before and failed.'" Giving orders, he instructed the office to remain out of it. He wanted to enjoy the game of watching his people kill Neal for fun, and if anyone tried to intervene, he would have their missiles launched at the city before having their man detonate the bomb to kill them all.

Waving the agents to stay back, Neal wasn't daunted. "That means you plan on sending your henchmen here. Since I've already been shot, blown up, and stabbed, how about we make the odds a little more even and they can leave their guns behind?" Neal tried to increase the odds of no one getting killed.

"Alright, I think we can comply with that, for now." The man agreed before sending them forward.

Still standing in the main open center of the office, Neal shifted into a more combative position as the first men reached him.

There were two of them, so he had to split his focus to prevent the second from getting behind him. Blocking the first punch easily, he threw a mixed martial art move of his own to land a punch sending the man back a step. Catching the second man's attempt at a high kick, Neal threw his foot into the other opponent knocking them both off of their balance.

Bracing for a mass attack, he seemed surprised when they held back.

"We don't want to overwhelm you so quickly. It's more fun to draw it out and watch you grow weaker… slowly." One of the men explained.

Grunting, Neal didn't make any other comment.

Shaking between rage and fear, Peter wasn't sure if it was good news or bad. They weren't killing Neal quickly which meant there was a chance for something to happen to change the situation, or it meant they would have to watch him die slowly instead.

As the fighting progressed, the men approached Neal one or two at a time. They were trying to wear him down, but it didn't seem to be working. Instead of growing weaker, Neal grew quieter, and anything said came in a colder voice. He was drawing deeper into his reserve strength, but he was holding his own.

Getting down to the last four, he seemed to stumble a step which made his opponents' eyes gleam. They all moved in more closely, as if closing in for the kill.

Fending the last two groups off two at a time, Neal got vicious in response to their aggressive attacks. When he hit, it was with the intent of knocking them out first blow. The rest of the time he had tried to use their effort against them to save as much energy as he could.

Finally he defeated the last of his opponents and stood frozen in place in the middle of the room again.

Surprised, the super solider who had addressed him previously frowned and glowered at Neal, he hadn't expected him to survive. "Maybe you are such a legend for a reason…" Contemplating his next means of attack, the man's eyes lit up again. "I wonder how you would do against a missile with your little phone and paperclip?"

While the man turned to his counterpart and discussed the possibility of shooting another area of the city where they could test his skills, the office sized Neal up wondering if he would be able to prevent the disaster intended.

Swaying slightly for a second, Neal seemed to have closed his eyes as a momentary reprieve to get another reserve of energy. Then he stood straighter again and planted his feet more firmly. "I'll meet your challenge. You've already decided this endeavor isn't going to go well, so let's make this a game to see if you can accomplish any of your goals." His voice was strong and confident. "Orion did train me after all."

From his vantage point, Peter saw a slight shift behind another desk down the way. Using his peripheral to avoid giving anything away, he watched as the old man who had entered with the group pulled a phone out of his pocket and started pushing buttons.

As Elizabeth squeezed his hand, he shifted closer to hear what she wanted to say to him.

"The man with the phone, he mentored Neal, so I think he is Orion. Neal must have tipped him off to do something." Her words were soft so he barely heard, but it was good news.

Giving her hand a hopeful squeeze, he signaled that her message was heard. Turning back to the remaining intruders, they seemed to have come to a conclusion.

"Alright, we'll take you up on that. We have shot the missile off, but I haven't seen you doing anything beyond tapping your pocket. Aren't you going to try to save all those civilian lives?" There was a taunting to his tone. The man showed no mercy to his victims.

Pulling the phone out and running his fingers over the buttons rapidly, Neal didn't appear to be concerned. He was cool and calculated as he did his work.

"Well? The clock is ticking…" Pulling out his own phone, the man began a countdown to increase the pressure. "Ten… nine… eight…"

Behind him, his counterpart began to whistle the game show tune often associates with a countdown.

Ignoring them, Neal kept working as if he wasn't under pressure with thousands of lives depending on him.

"Three… two… one." The countdown ended and a deathly silence filled the room as everyone strained to hear if the missile hit.

Hearing a tune playing from Neal's phone, the room was even more puzzled. "I guess its game over for missile number one."

"Can you prevent number two? It was sent at the same time from a slightly further distance. There is less than five seconds before it will impact." The second super soldier intruder added. "We thought you might be able to defeat one, but you wouldn't expect us to send the second simultaneously."

Tossing his phone, Neal wasn't fazed by the reveal. "Actually, I would expect just that."

Catching the phone, the two looked it over and didn't like what they saw.

"How? How could you fend off two missiles with nothing but a cell phone?" The men were completely flummoxed.

"You're obviously surprised by what a phone can do. Just because civilian phones can't do that, doesn't mean mine can't." Neal didn't answer their question as to how.

"You didn't tell us how." One glared at him and demanded an answer.

"That wasn't part of the game. The game was to see if I could stop you without the help of the FBI agents in the room." Although his tone was colder, the words had a Caffreyesque means of dodging the specifics with true details.

Smirking, Peter was glad Neal didn't just play those games on him. Based on what he had gathered, he knew Orion had done something to help, but wasn't sure how involved the man had been.

Reaching a point of fury, the two men began to advance on Neal themselves. "I don't think you could fight the two of us if you tried. We're super soldiers, and we haven't seen you flash so you aren't."

"No, I was killed again before I was supposed to become one… but I did create the 2.0 version of the program." He tried to prepare for their attack as he had the previous henchmen, but this fight was going to be different.

Hearing a noise, the occupants of the room barely had time to figure out where it was coming from before Chuck dropped in from a ceiling ventilation shaft. Landing in a roll, he moved to his feet to stand right next to Neal.

"Nice, I'd give you a ten for that landing." Neal commented easily.

"Thanks, I actually hit my feet this time. Also, I got here before you were shot to death again." Chuck quipped.

"You aren't supposed to get help, that's against the agreement." The man with the bomb stated as he shifted threateningly before a shot between his eyes stopped him.

Casey was holding his smoking gun as he watched from the opening above.

"Let us handle this." Chuck ordered the FBI agents about the room. "We specialize in super soldiers."

"You aren't enough to stop us." Their opponents bolstered themselves up for the attack.

"I'm a second generation super soldier. Whanna bet?" Chuck was serious as he flashed in preparation.

"Ooh, I want to try my skills at another Intersect… You want Larkin dead, so I say we switch opponents." The attackers switched places accordingly.

"Are you happy now?" Neal asked sarcastically. He was tired and knew he was about to take a beating.

"Not until you're dead." His opponent stated.

"Then let's get this over with so I can sleep." Neal answered with a bored tone.

Moving to engage their opponents, the two combatants began fighting. Chuck held his own, but Neal was struggling as he was thrown acrossed his own desk sending everything crashing to the ground with him. Remaining on the ground, Neal pretended to be defeated until his opponent moved to stand in range. Then he kicked out suddenly revealing he wasn't unconscious. Endeavoring to keep the fighting to the center of the room, it was brutal with everyone taking hits, but Neal taking the worst beating.

When it looked like Neal's opponent was going to take the lead in their fight, Neal pulled an unexpected string of vicious attacks catching the man by surprise. Beside him, Chuck also took a more aggressive stance for the fight to gain an upper hand. Then in a moment, there was a shout as two phones were thrown acrossed the room to their waiting hands. Hitting a button and thrusting them into their opponents faces, the two agents watched their opponents freeze while their Intersects were removed.

Once the program had run its course, Neal tossed the phone to Chuck who passed them both to his father. "Here, dad. You know what to do with them."

With his work done, Neal stood stiffly in the middle of the room. He had blood on his back, running down the side of his face, on his hands, and a motley collection of other minor injuries covering his body. Swaying in exhaustion, he would have collapse if Peter and Sara hadn't rushed to his side.

Pulling the brunt of Neal's weight into his chest, Peter made sure to support him while Sara made sure he didn't tilt by holding the remaining weight up on his other side.

In front of them, Elizabeth put her hand to Neal's forehead. "I don't think your fever is just exhaustion, your burning up."

* * *

Thank you everyone for reading, reviewing, leaving kudos, and following :D

Just to let you know, extended family has asked to get together next weekend into the week so I won't be home to post in routine. Because of this, I will be posting on Wednesday before we leave and the following weekend as usual upon return. Per my norm when traveling, I will do what I can to respond to reviews and PMs, but may be delayed at times due to activities. I appreciate everyone sticking with me as there are still interesting points to see... Peter and Neal will have to talk eventually ;)


	18. Chapter 18

**Care**

* * *

 **New York City: FBI White Collar**

Standing with his friend's weight leaning into his chest, Peter knew the kid needed help. Neal was exhausted from the prolonged effort to take the organization down and bring the hostages home. Then he had several injuries piled on to that, including the damage done by the fighting in the office, to make his body weak. The threat of infection wasn't something to be taken lightly; it could kill him if it wasn't treated right.

Mumbling, Neal was too tired to do anything. He was practically asleep where he stood and only remained conscious due to the adrenaline coursing through his system. Peter's and Sara's supporting arms were what kept him on his feet, and they couldn't stand there holding him for long.

"We need to move him to a chair so we can sit him down safely." Peter directed Sara and Elizabeth to assist him with their burden to the nearest seat. Then they sat Neal behind Jones' desk.

"My sister and her husband are on their way up. They're doctors and will check his injuries over… but he might need to at least visit a hospital again depending on how badly he's hurt." Chuck said from his side of the room. He had been watching the proceedings with a concerned expression. Walking over when Neal still wouldn't relax, he put his hand on his shoulder, careful to avoid any injuries. "Stand down, Neal. The building is clear and everyone is safe."

Much to Peter's relief, Neal immediately relaxed the rest of way and fell asleep.

"He'll sleep until he is rested enough to wake up." Chuck sighed. "The idiot did this a few times back in college, so I've seen him like this before. This time he has compounded injuries though, which will keep him down longer." Turning towards Peter, Chuck smiled slightly to help cheer him up. "Don't worry, Peter. I've seen Neal take a fatal shot and bleed all over the place without dying, this might lay him up for a bit, but he's taken far worse in the field."

Squeezing his wife closer to him while putting his hand on Neal's other shoulder; Peter closed his eyes and shook his head. He was haunted by the imagery of Neal filled with shrapnel and dying again, an image he might never totally get rid of. Feeling his wife kiss his cheek, he opened his eyes to look down at her worried expression.

"Are you alright, hon?" Elizabeth had been worried about Neal's condition, but seeing Peter pale and trembling concerned her too.

"Yes, and no." Peter looked over to Neal. "I'm fine, but I've spent the entirety of your absence between anger and fear over this whole situation. Then yesterday we were told there was trouble wherever you were, but not if you were alright. For the last day I've had pictures of you in chains and what they might have done to you, and Neal… I have this scene of him dying replaying through my head that I can't shake."

Elizabeth pulled him into a kiss and laid her head on his shoulder cuddling into him. She was trying to comfort him. Neither of them had been away from the other without contact for this long since they had married. Throw in the worry of danger, and it was a stressful experience.

Standing there in those moments, the group was a calm island in the storm. They focused on Neal, and everyone around them hurried about trying to clean up the situation. There were the unconscious bodies of the attackers strewn about, the security issues of how they managed their attack, and the coming investigations into the corruption that had been found.

Hearing the elevator ding, the atmosphere in the room changed as two civilians with medical bags walked in. They were accompanied by an older woman in jeans and a leather jacket, a large military like man in clothes matching Neal's, a little guy who was mostly beard, and a blonde woman wearing jeans and a t-shirt.

"Is Bryce alright?" The blonde woman asked Chuck.

"Mostly, he's somewhere between sound asleep and unconscious, but then there is his compound injuries which could be problematic." Chuck answered before introducing the groups.

"This is my sister Ellie and her husband Devon, they're the doctors, Sara is my wife, and Mary is our mom. The rest of the group is composed of our teammates Morgan and Casey, whom you might have seen in the ventilation shaft behind me earlier." Turning towards the others, he finished his introductions. "Bryce is actually Neal, but Caffrey is not his real name. His friends here consist of Peter, his wife Elizabeth, Sara, June, Jones, Diana, and the little guy hovering behind is known around here as Mozzie. Then standing over there against the desk is Michael Barns, he went to school with Neal and I."

The groups generally greeted each other before getting down to business.

"Mozart." Mary nodded towards the little guy who responded with "Frost." Then the two moved away to find Orion with Mozzie asking to be kept up to date.

"Okay…" Chuck didn't know how to explain that when everyone's eyes found him in question. "My mom has been undercover in the criminal world for a long time, but I have no idea beyond that."

Although it was a point of curiosity, the group turned their focus onto the activity of the doctors checking on their patient.

Ellie and Devon began checking Neal over while Elizabeth pulled up a chair behind them to sit. Peter moved to the desk beside her where he could be close and still watch over Neal. Sara took a spot on the desk beside him while June stood behind with Michael.

"How is he?" Elizabeth asked looking over their shoulders at the familiar red lines and patches of bruising that covered her friend's body.

"Not great, that's for sure. There is definitely infection in some of these injuries. The doctor's he's seen did a good job of staving the worst of it off, but by being so active in the field he still exposed himself to contagions… he's going to be sick before this is all over." Devon said as he poked around his side of Neal's back.

"Does he need to go to a hospital?" Peter asked quietly. His eyes were wide, his face pale, and he couldn't take his eyes off of Neal's lacerated back.

"He should, at least for a run through the machines to check on those bones. Based on the bruising, he's taken some hits recently." Ellie added her opinion in.

"Bry… Neal, won't want to stay in a hospital. Would he be able to go home?" Sarah asked from her position on the other side. She had helped clear a few men away, but wasn't necessary with so many agents about.

"That depends on the results of a full check up." Ellie wouldn't give one way or the other.

Unable to help, the group stayed out of the way at the next desks and watched.

"I went to school with him for years, lived in the same fraternity, and I never really knew a thing of who he was." Michael muttered as he sat watching the proceedings.

Reaching over to touch his arm, Elizabeth tried to comfort him. "None of us saw everything of who he is, but he isn't a legendary agent for nothing."

Sitting quietly, they thought about that for the rest of the check up. Then once the doctors were finished, they requested a stretcher to transport Neal down on.

Behind them, the group dispersed. Michael gave his contact information to Chuck asking for updates before he was taken away by agents for his trip home. Jones and Diana chose to stay around the office and continue helping with the mess, but requested to be updated with the promise to stop by and see Neal later. Chuck, Sarah, Sara, Peter, Elizabeth, and June prepared to transition their vigil to a hospital waiting room.

* * *

 **New York City: Burke Townhouse**

Walking through her front door for the first time in a while, Elizabeth felt a shiver of fear creep up her spine. She hadn't been home since the night she was abducted.

Looking around, everything appeared normal. Like she and Peter had been on an extended vacation, but one where they had separate destinations. The air felt heavy and smelt like it had been closed in… he must have lived at the office.

Turning to her husband, she saw the way his hands were shaking and the distant expression on his face. He was looking around too, but wasn't seeing their home as it was. She reached out and took his hand before giving it a squeeze.

The action jolted Peter out of his thoughts before he tried to smile for her. It wasn't as reassuring as she had hoped, but it was a start.

Hearing the commotion coming up the side walk, she used their clasped hands to pull Peter away from the door before moving to hold it open. Their visitors were bringing their guest up the stairs.

Ushering the people in, she directed Devon and Chuck where to settle Neal on the couch. It gave him a comfortable place to rest where he could be watched over and guests could comfort themselves with visits.

"There isn't any damage to his bones, but he has a lot of bruising, exhaustion, and that infection to contend with. We'll be by to check on him tomorrow. In the meanwhile, keep fluids down him, give him medicine, and let him rest." Ellie told Elizabeth as they were getting Neal comfortable on the couch.

"Thank you for helping us take care of him. We owe him a lot… I owe him a lot." Elizabeth said as she paused to smooth the blanket over Neal's chest.

"My family does too." Ellie didn't elaborate, but there was something in her expression that spoke volumes.

Although Elizabeth didn't know the story, she could appreciate their help and understand their feelings. "I guess we're all lucky to have him in our lives."

"We are." The doctor agreed before joining her husband to leave for the evening.

After Peter let them out the door, Elizabeth felt his arms sneak around her middle and his chin come to rest on her shoulder. She was standing over the couch and watching their friend sleep, so he had joined her in observation.

"I'm glad to see him sleeping so deeply." Elizabeth said. "He barely slept in between missions and then he seemed to wake up at the slightest inclination that anything wasn't quite right. Now he can actually rest." She patted Peter's hands on her middle before leaning back into her husband comfortably.

"Everyone is safe, so we all can." Peter agreed as he kissed her cheek.

"Or at least start to. This is going to give us all nightmares, but at least we're home where we can help each other deal with our fears." Elizabeth agreed.

"You know, don't you?" Peter whispered in her ear. She could hear the shame in his voice.

"He was upset by it, and a lot of what's happened recently, so I picked up some ideas as to what has been going on between you two." Turning around, she could see the tears glistening in her husband's eyes so she cupped his cheek in her hand to get his attention. "He isn't angry at you, just very hurt. When he is better, you need to apologize, but I think he would be glad to hear it."

Sighing, Peter glanced over her shoulder at their friend again. "I hope so. Chuck is also certain he'll forgive me, but I'm having trouble forgiving myself… how can I expect him to?"

"Because, he cares about your friendship" Elizabeth had to turn Peter back to face her when he glanced away. "Not only does he care about you, he knows you. He knows what your perspective was." She tried to encourage him, even though she kept some of Neal's comments to herself. Peter was already hurt by his actions so she didn't need to reveal the extent of the damage.

After a while the couple broke apart to answer the door. Jones had stopped by with Diana to bring Satchmo home.

Letting the dog off of his leash, he bound to his owners for their greetings, before running off to make sure everything was right, and returning to ensure they were still there. This pattern repeated until he was comfortable before he disappeared to his own bed where he laid down with a bone courtesy of Elizabeth to help him settle down.

Talking to the agents, Peter got updated as to what was happening at the office and shared the results of Neal's tests. Then they discussed the plans to keep Neal with the Burkes through his recovery, or at least until he was past the infection and exhaustion.

With the evening drawing to a close, Peter let his agents out after a round of hugs with the promise to keep each other updated.

Tending to Neal one last time, they then closed up the house.

"We might as well try to get some sleep. Between Neal's care and the nightmares, this is going to be a long night." Peter accurately predicted.

"Then let's go." Elizabeth smiled as she turned off the light before pulling her husband upstairs with her.

* * *

Thank you everyone for reading, choosing to favorite, reviewing/commenting, and leaving kudos :D

As stated last weekend, I will be out of town for roughly the next week so I'm posting early for next weekend. I'll be back in time to post on the following weekend as usual where we'll get Neal's delirious perspective of his care takers :D


	19. Chapter 19

**Recovering**

* * *

 **Unverified Location: Deliriously Conscious**

Everything blurred around him. There was the memory of Peter's furious words spat in his face, 'A part of me could kill you right now.' Then there was the feeling of bullets whipping past him, a knife sliding through his back, the abuse of taking a beating, before the thrust of an explosion made him feel like he was falling.

"No, you don't." A tired voice rumbled very close as strong hands caught him.

Feeling himself lifted back up onto the soft surface, Neal was torn between focusing on the hands that had caught him, or the pain he felt through his entire body. He was hot and wondered if there really had been explosion. Was he too close to the flames?

"Too close… the flames." He managed to utter in the hope that whomever was rescuing him would pull him away to somewhere cooler.

"There isn't a fire, Neal. You have a fever." The voice said again before something cool and damp was draped acrossed his brow.

Sighing, Neal felt better for a few moments before the cool seemed to fade away and he felt warmer for the damp. Then shifting, he was relieved to feel the warm taken away and replaced with the cool again.

"Does that feel better?" He felt a hand settle on the soft place beside him.

"P… Peter?" He didn't want to ask, because he was afraid of the answer. What if Peter wasn't there to catch him? Or, what if he was, why would he be there after his words the last time they had spoken?

Someone sighed above him. "Yes, I'm here, Neal." The activity of changing out the warm for the cool was repeated.

Attempting to open his eyes to verify for himself, Neal quickly closed them at the brightness. "Why? Don't you hate me?" He wasn't sure if he asked that out loud or not, or if Peter was really there. What if he was creating a comforting image because his body was going through something stressful? "Is this real, or am I imagining you here?" Asking couldn't hurt, especially if Peter really was there.

The warm wasn't taken away this time, and the person above him seemed to have frozen.

"Peter?" When there was no response, he felt depressed. "I guess I did imagine you…"

"No, I am here. Neal… I don't hate you… that was wrong of me, I'm… I'm sorrier than I can ever say." The voice answered and something wet, but warm landed on his face.

"It's raining… that will help put the fire out." Neal muttered. Peter was a topic too puzzling for his mind to grasp, but the flames was still a concern. Feeling a few more drops, he could only relax back into slumber knowing the flames would be taken care of.

* * *

 **Unverified Location: Deliriously Conscious**

Waking up with a jolt, Neal couldn't get rid of the picture in front of his face as he saw Elizabeth sobbing on the floor. She had been attacked by three large men, and was in shock afterwards. "Elizabeth…" The words fell off of his tongue even though he knew she wouldn't be aware of his presence.

"I'm right here. Thanks to you, I'm safe." Her voice came from above him.

Forgetting what he had been concerned about, Neal was distracted by the heat he could feel. "Why is it hot?" Then something about a fire crossed his mind. "Fire? Is there a fire?"

"No, Neal. There is no fire, everyone is safe. You protected me and took the organization that took me down. In the process you got hurt, and those injuries are infected. The fire you're feeling is caused by a fever you've been fighting for the last two days."

"Rain, rain was supposed to put flames out." He continued having managed to remember that.

Sniffling, she sounded like she was crying. "That wasn't rain… Neal, Peter doesn't hate you, and he's sorry for what he said to you."

"Don't want to go there… hurts." Neal shook his head causing the cool to disappear.

"Alright, Neal. I won't go there." The voice responded with a hitch. "Right now you need to rest. Get some sleep." She returned the cool to his brow and was stroking her hand through his hair to calm him.

"I'm so tired… sleep is good." Neal muttered before drifting back off to sleep.

* * *

 **Unverified Location: Burke Townhouse**

Waking up again, Neal still felt like the heater was on in summer, but at least he could connect that he was lying on a couch. Listening to the noise around him, he could easily imagine himself at the Burke's home, so he decided he must be dreaming about better days.

"Neal? Are you awake?" Another voice came from nearby. It was familiar, special, but took him a moment to identify.

"Sara?" He croaked. His voice sounded scratchy and his throat hurt like he hadn't had a drink in a while.

"Yeah." Her voice was soft and accompanied by a hand trailing through his hair and along the side of his face. "We've been worried about you. The fever has stayed steady for four days now and isn't breaking."

"No wonder I feel like a desert." Neal said before his mind went off through memories of desert and sand.

A soft shake of his shoulder got his attention back. "Are you with me, Neal?"

"Thirsty." He answered. The memories reminded him how parched his throat was.

"Here, take a few sips of the water." A straw was put to his lips for him to drink. Feeling the cool liquid hit his mouth, he wanted to keep drinking, but the straw was pulled back too soon. "Not too much."

He settled back and was almost drifting off to sleep when Sara patted his cheeks. "You can't go back to sleep yet. Elizabeth is bringing your medicine and a little bit of broth. If you can take some of that down, then you can sleep."

Asking random questions and zoning out a few times causing him to miss the answers, Neal realized he had missed something important. "What?" Opening his eyes, he could see the essence of Sara sitting in front of him. She was wearing a green something, but her red hair was the main thing to catch his unfocused eyes.

"Don't worry about it, Neal. We'll talk when you're better." Sara soothed him before the smell of soup caused his stomach to growl.

Laughter nearby was a good sound, and in a moment Elizabeth was there passing the things to Sara. Patting Neal on the head before stepping away, she greeted him. "I'm glad to hear my soup has brought your appetite back."

Smiling slightly, Neal felt as another pair of hands lifted him up for someone to sit behind him. "I'll check his back once he's asleep again." It was the masculine voice, Peter was back.

Deciding not to let the dream go, Neal managed most of his cup of broth with Sara's help before he felt himself drifting.

"Relax, Neal. I'm not going to hurt you, only check on your injuries." The male voice rumbled from behind him. It was Peter, so he went to sleep knowing his friend would take care of whatever injuries needed tending. Drifting deeper, Neal let his head loll to his chest.

* * *

 **Verified Location: Burke Townhouse**

Waking up, Neal thought he had been out for a long run. His muscles were sore, he was covered with sweat, and he just felt tired. Stretching to ease some of the discomfort, the movement released some of the tension and sent his blood flowing through his limbs.

Opening his eyes, he was still tired, but he wanted his own bed. Besides, Peter and Elizabeth wouldn't want him around their place. They liked their space, and something told him they needed to be alone for some reason.

Sitting up slowly, he waited until the world stopped spinning before he shifted the blanket he was covered with to the side. On second thought, he pulled the blanket back over and slowly began to fold it. Elizabeth kept their house neat, so as their guest, he should be courteous and pick up after himself.

Once that was done, he levered himself up to a standing position. Taking a moment to put the blanket up along the back of the couch, he noticed that they had a new cover, a sheet of some sort. "Must be due to Satchmo shedding… or something." He threw out the most logical reason he could think of before starting the walk towards the door.

Pausing by the doorway, he went to check his pockets for a phone to call a cab. Looking down when he didn't find anything, he discovered that someone had changed him into hospital scrubs on bottom, and gown on top. "That explains the draft…"

"Neal? What are you doing up?" Peter was there at the bottom of the stairs looking at him in concern.

Looking at his friend, Neal was surprised to find him scruffy and tired. "I need to go home. You and Elizabeth need to be alone, and you look like you could use some sleep." Neal answered. "Where's my phone… need to call a cab."

"No, no you don't, Neal. You're sleeping right over here on the couch, where you have been for the last week. We finally got your fever going down, but you aren't over the infection yet." Peter tried to move Neal, but the man wouldn't budge.

"You and Elizabeth should be alone… I shouldn't be here." Neal insisted.

Hanging his head, Peter looked like he was struggling with something. "We need to talk Neal, and I will keep apologizing until you realize I mean it. But for now, you need to rest and recover from your injuries. So please… just please come back to the couch until then. Once you temp is normal and you've slept enough that you don't look exhausted, then if you still want to go home, you can."

Staring at Peter, Neal gauged his reaction. "Promise?"

"Promise." Peter's shoulders sagged in disappointment.

"Okay then." Neal turned to start walking back himself, but stumbled instead. "But, I think I'm going to need help with that."

He felt Peter lift his arm acossed his shoulders before wrapping his other arm around his lower back. It hurt for some reason, but Neal couldn't remember why he was wearing scrubs. "Lean into me, Neal. I don't want to put any pressure on your injuries, but we need to get you back to the couch."

Complying with the request, Neal found it hard to assist his friend by walking.

Reaching the couch, Peter sat Neal down, turned him, helped him to lie down, and lifted his feet onto the couch. "I don't know why you thought you were leaving in your socks and scrubs…" Peter was muttering before he stopped. "Neal… are you that desperate to leave?"

Confused, Neal looked up to see Peter's pale expression. "Why would I be desperate?"

"Did I hurt you that badly?" Peter plopped down on the edge of the couch loudly. His eyes were misting, like he wanted to cry.

"Hurt me? How would you hurt me?" Neal was confused.

Looking away towards the floor, Peter ignored the lone tear rolling down his cheek. "I said something to you, something I can't forgive myself for. You may not remember it at the moment, but you'll remember later… you've talked about it in your fevered dreams, so I know it's been on your mind."

Frowning, Neal couldn't remember any such occurrence. "Don't remember…"

"Which is why you can't leave yet… and I hope you give me the chance to apologize again when you're more coherent." Peter sniffed and rubbed his eyes to clear the tears. Then standing up, he pulled the blanket from the back of the couch before shaking it out and laying it over Neal. As he reached Neal's shoulders, he gently lay the blanket down over him so that he was covered warmly.

Then Peter replaced the cool cloth on his brow, shifted a few things about to ensure Neal was comfortable, and settled onto the edge of the couch for a moment.

"Sleep, Neal. The fever may be down, but you aren't over the infection. You need time to heal." The agent put his hand on Neal's head, slightly ruffling his hair, like an older brother.

Drifting off to sleep, Neal watched as Peter moved to a nearby chair and pulled out a paper. He didn't turn on a game, but was instead focused on Neal. "I'm not going to run." Why was Peter watching him so closely?

"I know, but I'm here if you need anything." Peter met his eyes with a sad and tired expression of his own.

Feeling sad himself, Neal knew something was wrong, but was too tired to figure it out. Letting sleep take him over, he figured he could handle the situation better once he was rested.

* * *

Thank you for reading, leaving kudos, and commenting/reviewing :D

We're back from the trip so posting will resume as normal. There aren't any more large trips planned this year, only some weekend jaunts around our state or ones nearby, so nothing too major as far as interruptions in the foreseeable future.


	20. Chapter 20

**Forgiveness**

* * *

 **New York City: Burke Townhouse**

The last thing Neal could remember seeing was the office going blurry as he fell backwards. He landed into something solid and could feel arms around him. Somehow, there was the particular loud sound of breathing in his ear as the person who had caught him apologized. 'I'm sorry, Neal… so sorry, for everything." That wasn't right. He could have thought it had been Peter's voice in his ears, but the agent hated him, was so far past done as to partially want him dead. Why would he be apologizing?

Neal shifted hoping to go back to sleep, but found he couldn't. He wasn't tired anymore and felt like he had slept too much. Stretching gently, he got the blood moving and felt better for it. There was something to stretching after lying around for a long time. It shifted stiff muscles and sent blood running through faster.

Sighing, he decided to open his eyes and found himself staring at a familiar, and yet unexpected ceiling. What was he doing at the Burke's?

Trying to remember, his mind went back to the last time he had been at their home. It was the night Peter had said they were done and sent him home on house arrest. Frowning, that didn't make sense considering he was back at the Burke's… or still there?

Shifting to get up, he realized he was wearing hospital scrubs and a gown. He had obviously left for a while…

"I see you're awake again. Is the fever down?" Peter was coming down the stairs and asked as he rounded the banister.

"Did we fight or something?" Neal found himself asking perplexed. He hurt all over, what had happened?

Stumbling to a stop, Peter was blindsided by the question. "You think I might… No, we didn't fight." His voice cut out in shock not finishing the first sentence before he hurried to state the second. Holding his hands part way up to placate Neal, Peter looked worried. "Neal, what do you remember?"

"The last time I was here, you said you were done with me. So much so, a part of you could kill me." Neal looked hurt by that memory.

Gasping, Peter looked teary eyed. "What kills me, is that you took it so much to heart. Neal, I lost it there. And I mean lost it, my control, temper, and even something of myself. On a normal day, I can't imagine hurting you. You are frustrating sometimes, and I yell at you, but I don't want to see you hurt. Some days, I say things like threats to put you back in jail, or crack comments about the amount of paperwork I'd have to do if you died, but that's because I want you to stay out of trouble and can't come out and say how much you've become my friend. No, not friend, you're more like a little brother. It seems like you're a magnet for trouble, and I'm always either trying to keep you away from it or digging you out after you fall in."

"I'm not your little brother, Peter. More like the criminal consultant you're always wary of committing crime right under your nose." Neal was having trouble believing the depth of the meaning behind Peter's words. He wanted it to be true, but couldn't trust the situation not to change.

Dropping his hands all together, Peter knew the conversation couldn't go much worse. Approaching cautiously, he made sure not to come off as threatening and took a seat not far from Neal. "You don't believe me, do you?"

Looking up, Neal sighed. "I know you didn't really mean the whole wanting to kill me thing, but your intent to be finished with me? That I can easily believe. Why would you want to keep me around, to always fight to keep me away from trouble or digging me back out when I fall in? There isn't the responsibility of a brother for you to have to."

Realizing it was never the words, but the feeling of rejection behind them that really got to Neal, Peter had a new trajectory of evidence. "Really? So why do you always keep coming to my rescue despite how often I mess up? You say we aren't brothers, so that doesn't count, and don't use the handler thing because we both know you're better than that."

Startled, Neal didn't know what to say. "Why wouldn't I want to help you? You're my friend. Besides, if you weren't, how could I see someone in trouble and not help?"

"Exactly." Peter looked like he had a slight win. When Neal continued to look puzzled he pushed the point. "I mean it, exactly. If you were just a criminal, or the con I was only worried about committing crimes, why would you help anyone? Why would I be willing to trust you when my life was in your hands?"

"What are you saying?" Neal couldn't follow the conversation. Hadn't they been talking about how Peter hated him, how he was too much of a criminal to be tolerated?

Moving to the coffee table, Peter needed Neal to get his point. "Neal, you say you're just a criminal. That I'm only wary of what crime you might be committing under my nose. What I'm saying, is you're more than a criminal, always have been. Sure, I've lost sight of that sometimes, but it doesn't change the facts."

Puzzled, that really didn't make sense. "Are you defending me, to me?"

Reaching out, Peter put his hand on Neal's shoulder despite the flinch. He didn't know if it was a reaction to touch on an injury, or if it was psychological because it was his touch. "Neal, I chased you for years. Not once did you use a gun, violence, or anything that could get someone hurt. Then I caught you. Did you try to hit me, spit on me, or any of the other things I've experienced in arrests? No, you shook my hand, genuinely thanked me, and then joked with Jones while he cuffed you. That isn't normal for most criminals!" He ducked his head to look Neal in the eyes again. "After I took you on as my consultant, you did the same things. You risked your life in the field despite being unarmed and without Bureau training. The case where Rice handed you over as ransom, you risked your life for a stranger. When I was abducted by Keller you sacrificed a ring worth millions of dollars just to get a message from me." Lifting Neal's face to look at him, Peter softened his voice. "I could go on you know. There are many stories of you as Neal Caffrey where you did things to help others, or didn't hurt people when you could have so easily."

Neal had tears in his eyes too. What had happened to change Peter's mind? "That's a very different tune than I remember you singing last. What happened?"

Moving his hand to cup the back of Neal's neck, Peter explained the situation with Chuck showing him the footage of Keller stealing the treasure and setting him up. "That snapped me out of my temper. I pretty much cried right then and there… How could you ever forgive me for treating you so badly?"

Finding his own breath hitching, Neal hadn't expected the conversation to get so emotional. Peter wasn't one for emotions, and he wasn't overly either, but here they were. "Forgive you? You're the one whose wife was kidnapped because I brought Keller in. Shouldn't you be the one forgiving me?"

Making the last transition to the couch, Peter pulled Neal into a hug. "Stop blaming yourself. Keller is responsible for stealing the treasure for his own gains, he framed you and set you as ransom for revenge, and I walked right into his trap believing you had stolen the treasure and caused my wife's abduction which was his revenge on me. None of this was your fault, alright? I'm an agent, I arrested him, you helped, and he wanted revenge on us so he found this means because of me and my weakness for forgetting that you're more than a criminal. So yeah, it's me who should be asking for forgiveness, but I can't, because I can't feel like I deserve it enough to ask."

"I forgive you, Peter." Neal hugged Peter and felt a tear running down his cheek. What surprised him though, was the dampness spreading acrossed his shoulder where Peter's head was. The tough non-emotional agent, was crying?

Sitting on the couch with Peter, Neal let his friend release his emotions. Peter needed this, so he let his mind wonder. Slowly, he remembered going home, reporting in, and being sent as the ransom. The following series of events was a whirlwind of work before landing back in the city. Returning to the office, he had gotten everyone home safe and managed to protect the city, but his cover was completely blown. Then there were blurry memories of apologies and rain. Peter had been dwelling on this too long, and so had he.

Feeling better for knowing Peter really regretted his outburst and truly met what he said about being brothers, Neal leaned his head into Peter's shoulder and just breathed. It was nice to feel the release of his own emotions, to relax until he felt refreshed.

When Peter moved to pull back, Neal pulled him into another tighter hug and was glad to feel Peter carefully squeeze him in return.

"I think this has been dwelt on enough. We're both sorry for whatever part was ours in bringing it about, so if you'll forgive me, we can move on."

"How could I not forgive you?" Peter croaked softly. He wasn't typically one for crying jags, but it had been a long series of weeks… months for that matter.

"Alright." Neal said pulling himself together. "So, how are things going to be going forward? I know my cover has been blown."

Smiling, Peter could genuinely be happy with the chosen topic. "Well, Jones and Diana each have their own thing for you… but for me? You'll still have your anklet, not everyone knows you're an undercover agent, but it won't be a fully functioning monitor."

"Do you mean I won't have a radius anymore?" Neal's eyes perked up. "I've been all over the world, but still, it would be nice to step around the corner sometimes, just because it's a different corner!"

Laughing, Peter assured him that the radius wouldn't be officially active. "But the tracker part still works, and the alarm if it gets tampered with."

"Admit it, you like knowing where I am. Stalker." Neal teased.

Unwilling to give in easily, Peter defended himself. "You are a magnet for danger, remember? This gives us a means to know you're safely where you're supposed to be, or for you to send a signal if you're in trouble… and that dot steadily blinking somewhere like June's does help me sleep better at night."

"Ooh… I should hack the system and randomly transmit my signal from somewhere else!" Neal grinned mischievously.

"No, no you don't. You don't get to hack the Marshal's system just because you're an agent. Not unless it's a dire emergency, and even then only as a last resort!" Peter argued back with his usual spark, the first glimpse Neal had seen in some time.

"How would you know if I was hacking it? I could make it look like I was walking through some store, send you in circles through the crowd trying to find me, and then slip out some side exit escaping while you walked back to your car." Neal was turning it into a game. Ways he could use his new freedom and blown cover to tease Peter.

Frowning, Peter glared at Neal. "I know you would dare, and there ultimately isn't much I could do to stop you, but know this, I would find a way to punish you for it. For one, I would not simply walk back to my car and let you get away, I would pursue you until I caught up to your location. Then if you weren't actually there, the punishment would depend on the situation."

"Are you already back to giving him gray hair? You should be nice Neal, you're still healing too after all." Elizabeth reprimanded playfully as she entered through the door.

"I think he'll always be giving me gray hair, no matter what." Peter got up to greet his wife.

"It's too much fun to give up." Neal grinned before winking at her.

"Behave, or I won't make your favorite meal once your better." Elizabeth pulled one of her cards.

Pretending to pout, Neal asked. "But I'm better, can we have that for dinner?"

"No, you've hardly eaten in more than a week and were more focused on work before that. We're starting out simple with a nice soft soup." Elizabeth stated before marching into the kitchen to begin preparations.

"You know there isn't any point in arguing with her. My wife has you beat." Peter smirked.

"Fine, I guess I can live with soup for dinner. When I'm home though, I'm looking forward to lounging on the balcony with my coffee and view." Neal leaned back into the couch.

"Neal…" Peter paused, so Neal prompted.

"What?"

"I know I promised to let you go home once your fever had broken and you weren't so exhausted…" Peter hesitated. "But please consider staying here while you continue to heal."

Softening his expression, Neal waited for Peter to finish.

"This whole thing… I saw the reports for each and every fortress you took on, and witness that fight in the office. There are a lot of pictures in my head that won't go away." Peter closed his eyes and desperately tried to get rid of the worst one again. When he opened them, Neal had moved from the couch to be standing right in front of him with a shaky hand on his shoulder.

"Nightmares?"

Nodding, Peter explained what was in his head. "We were told you had been blown off of a building, but not what condition you were in afterward. I pictured you full of shrapnel and dying." Even with his eyes open, he was easily able to describe the gory image. "And each time I go to sleep, I wake up at some point with that. Then it's a comfort to be able to come downstairs and check on you, to know you're still breathing."

Pulling Peter into another hug, Neal wanted to dispel those images from his friend's mind. He knew Peter wasn't going to forget it, but at least he could possibility reduce the pain of it. "Sure, I can stay for a while longer, and you can call me whenever after I do return home. Day or night, whenever the nightmares get to be too much, I'm only a phone call away."

Breathing deep to dispel the image in his head, Peter had one more request to make. "Promise me, Neal. You'll never just 'let' some hurt you, let alone kill you! I don't care if it's me because I've lost my temper, don't ever stop fighting to live!"

It took Neal a moment to remember where that fear even came from, but once he did, he knew his words that day had hurt Peter deeply. "I'll promise to do my best, but if it means taking a bullet or letting you take it, you know what my choice is going to be."

"Not if I can help it. I hope we never come to that kind of situation, and if we do, I vote for finding a way to both get out." Peter shivered at the promise behind the words as he pulled out of the hug.

Staring each other in the eyes, they both knew the other would endeavor to protect them no matter the cost. Who would ultimately win would come down to the situation, so there was no use fighting about it in advance.

Agreeing to disagree, the two men went about getting ready for supper. Peter helped Neal upstairs to the bathroom, and then waited for him to shower and shave. Once he was ready, they got the bandages reapplied and worked their way downstairs to eat.

* * *

Thank you everyone for reading, leaving kudos, reviewing/commenting, choosing to favorite, and following my stories and I :D

This is the end of the main story, but there are two epilogues remaining so it isn't entirely over quite yet!

However, since we are getting down to the end I will start taking votes for what people want to see next over the next few weeks. I keep a list of my completed works eligible for posting on my profile page. They are organized as oldest to newest for completion and have the title, description, fandom, and length detailed. Remember, I either post by your request of completed story, or the oldest piece if no one has a preference. If you have a particular of my completed stories you would like to see next, please add it's title to your review or PM me directly :D


	21. Chapter 21

**Epilogue FBI**

* * *

 **New York City: FBI**

Walking with Peter, Neal was enjoying his morning coffee. It had been a month since the incident with Keller abducting Elizabeth so he was finally allowed to return to work on desk duty. His infection had cleared and the injuries were mostly healed. If everything went well, he would be back in the field soon.

"Happy to be back?" Peter asked from beside him as he also enjoyed his morning brew.

"It's definitely going to be interesting. This is the first time I've been in the office since my cover was blown." Neal drank another swallow of his coffee as they approached the Federal Building.

Reaching for the door, Peter held it open for his partner to walk through. "I don't think it would be any worse than your first day here as a con artist. At least people won't be guarding their purses or keeping their vacations secret."

Walking through and grabbing the next door, Neal smirked. "You'd be surprised. Some people treat me with the same level of distrust, if not worse. I'm actually more expected to be snooping and spying. Then there are those who perceive me as a rival, and that's a whole other situation."

"Huh, I guess I don't have much experience on the matter, but I'm sure I'll be finding out." Peter walked through security like they did every other morning.

Heading for the elevator lines, they were surprised to find themselves in the car with Ruiz and a few of his people.

"I still don't trust you near my crime scenes." Ruiz said evenly. "You may be a spook, but I'm not a fan of them either."

"Wouldn't expect anything less." Neal quipped with a smile at Peter. Ruiz was one of those case in point examples between one who didn't trust him, and one who saw him as competition.

Rolling his eyes in response, Peter wasn't impressed.

The other agents gave general greetings and a few made pleasant conversation. Neal greeted the agents in return and answered their questions that his health was doing fine.

When it was time to get off on their floor, the Violent Crime team left and Peter went up with Neal alone.

"Don't worry about it, Peter. Ruiz still distrusting me helps keep my cover. It would look suspicious if he was suddenly welcoming to me." Neal grinned.

Sighing, Peter still didn't like it. "I don't know how you do this."

"Easy, I've been doing it nearly all my life." Neal looked up to watch the numbers flash acrossed the screen. They were getting close to their floor.

"Wait…" Peter looked confused as he tried to think of an explanation behind the comment. When he couldn't come up with one, he asked, "Really?"

"It's called Wit-sec." Neal swung out of the car neatly as the doors opened and started walking for the office.

Pausing still inside the car, Peter didn't know what to say at first, but the doors trying to close made him move. Jumping through the gap and causing the doors to open before they fully closed, Peter hurried to catch up to Neal by the doors. "So that's why I never found anything about you pre eighteen, and the other thing is why I missed… wow, no wonder you are hard to trace!"

Laughing, Neal enjoyed the pleased look on Peter's face. "You found more about me than anyone else did."

Clapping him carefully on the shoulder with his free hand, Peter smiled proudly. "I'm glad I was digging, even before I knew how far I'd have to go."

With matching smiles of friendship, they pushed the door open to enter the office.

* * *

 **New York City: FBI White Collar**

Neal was met with several greetings of teammates welcoming him back while Peter disappeared up to his office.

"Where is your fedora? It isn't like you to come to work without your hat." A civilian who did bookwork for the department asked.

"My friend Chuck stole it. Last I saw, he was still wearing it and trying to prove he could do more tricks than I can." Neal smiled. "He said it was something about making up for lost time."

"Well, Chuck left it on your desk the last time his team past through." Diana pointed it out before turning her finger into his chest. "And don't think I'm going to wait much longer. You have an appointment on the sparring mats as soon as you're cleared for field duty buster."

Surprised, Neal asked her why.

"For lying to me all these years… and because I want to see how I rate against you. Based on the reports, you're a tough opponent, but I think I could give you a good workout. I was trained by my body guards growing up and then I was top of my class at Quantico." She smirked playfully.

"Alright, I'll give you a round. But don't blame me if you don't win." Neal challenged her back with a smile.

"Don't get cocky…" Diana threw over her shoulder as she left with her reports.

Amused, Neal turned to his desk and flipped the fedora onto his head, an action that brought a lot of smiles to the room. Seeing an envelope on the desk beneath where the hat had been, he picked it up curiously.

The writing on the outside was by Chuck's hand, but what it contained felt oddly like a card. Opening it, he pulled the card out and frowned at the contents.

It was a basic card depicting the Manhattan skyline, but the message inside was full of code… possibly even multiple codes.

Laughing, Neal was glad to see it. He had enjoyed Chuck's presence through the early stages of his recovery, but after a while it was overwhelming to have so many people about. The Bartowski crew had returned home with the promise of remaining in contact and future visits, but to encode everything was purely Chuck.

"What's so funny?" Jones asked as he walked up with a pile of paperwork in folders.

"Chuck, he left me the contact information for his crew, but it's all encoded, in multiple codes. I guess he decided to get a little revenge for all of the trouble I put him through over the years after all." Neal explained. Even though it sounded like he could be upset, his face was relaxed and amused.

"Huh, I guess that's the spy way of messing with friends. At least it helps keep your encryption and decryption skills in practice." The agent wasn't empathetic.

"It does, and it also prevents nosy agents from reading your mail." Neal smirked up towards Peter's office even though he knew the agent had never done that since his release.

"I'd think it would only make Peter more likely to read your mail. After all, whatever you encrypt would be a fun puzzle to decrypt." Jones grinned.

"Get back to work!" Peter shouted from his office noticing their grins in his direction.

Pointing at the folders, Jones indicated he was working, while Neal just smiled and waved.

Peter shook his head; he wasn't taking that battle on.

Chuckling, Jones unloaded his pile onto Neal's desk before patting him on the shoulder and starting to walk away.

"Hey, what's all this?" Neal hollered after him and pointed to the heap he had just inherited.

"Part of it is the paperwork for your new agreement between us and your agency, there is a little bit of paperwork from the recent situations needing your input, and the rest is mortgage frauds. You know how to fill the paperwork out so I'm not doing it for you, and we've been busy with the paperwork from your international adventure so things have piled up a little bit." Jones grinned before settling into his desk and starting on a much smaller pile.

"This is your version of revenge, isn't it?" Neal pretended to be hurt with a slight hint of pout. It was a move he had often used as Caffrey the con when he was trying to get out of something.

Holding up his hand, Jones wasn't falling for it. "That doesn't work on me, Neal. And don't try those puppy eyes either. Chuck tried, so we know you probably have a similar technique."

Turning his on, Neal attempted to use the puppy dog eyes just because Jones had mentioned them. "Please? I might get carpel tunnel if I have to fill this mountain out in triplicate."

'Better you than me." Jones said hiding behind a folder. "Besides, you're on desk duty and will have more time!"

"Caffrey, my office now." Hughes stood on the landing and gave Neal the double finger point.

"I wouldn't be so sure." Neal told Jones before heading up.

Entering the boss's office, Neal took his seat while Hughes closed the door behind them.

"I have a few things to go over with you." Their meeting started with Hughes sitting with his hands folded on the open folders in front of him.

"First, as Peter has discussed with you, your anklet is to remain on even though the radius restriction has been lifted. It will retain its tracking capabilities and will send an alert if tampered with." This information was followed by the folder depicting the details being slid acrossed to him. "You are to pretend nothing has changed by remaining in the previous radius as much as possible. To keep up appearance, it will still turn red if you leave the zone and Peter will get an automated call." Hughes summarized what the folder contained.

"Second, we have an agreement with the other agencies depicting why you are undercover in our offices and how you will remain as such until that purpose has been completed." Hughes was more serious with this portion of his speech and pointed a finger onto the folder. "We know your family is in danger, so only a select few know why you are here. Per your approval, Peter, Jones, Diana, and myself are the only people in this building with your operation details. We will do our best to support your mission and find the corrupt officers associated with the ring from your father's department. Still, don't go doing anything stupid Neal, I won't tolerate it from any agent on my team, and that includes you."

Concluding their meeting, Hughes asked if Neal had any questions pertaining to his new arrangement. When there wasn't any, he dismissed him back to his work.

Returning to his seat, Neal looked at the mountain piled there. Frowning, he glanced at Jones while pointing at it questioningly.

"Don't look at me. I already dropped everything with you earlier. Maybe I'm not the only one refusing to process your papers anymore?" He smiled.

Rolling his eyes, Neal grumbled as he sat down. "You don't think I have paperwork to do for my assignment? Try working for multiple agencies, then you'll see what paperwork is."

"Then you're well practiced at working through mountains." Blake said as he dropped another folder on top.

"Very funny." Neal glared as he opened the first folder. "Hey, how many mortgage fraud files are in here?" He looked around the room to see many smiling faces.

"Welcome back, Neal. We all know how much you love mortgage fraud cases, so we've been collecting." Agent Price said as he dropped another folder on top causing an avalanche acrossed Neal's desk.

Relenting, Neal knew he had been lying to them from the beginning, and as far as revenge went, it wasn't too bad. "Is this the extent of your revenge, or can I expect the coffee to be particularly horrible?" He asked with a sigh.

"No, the coffee isn't any worse than normal." Another said as she walked past him with a smile.

Agent Franklin added two more to the mess strewn acrossed Neal's desk. "We've actually done pretty much all of the paperwork pertaining to your operation, and although we aren't mad at you, things really have kind of piled up recently."

"Fine." Neal sighed. "I appreciate you all pitching in over the last few weeks to clean the operation up, and I'm glad you aren't holding it against me… but really? Mortgage frauds are the dullest cases on record!" He whined. Sure, he was actually an agent, but he was black ops, which wasn't usually so dull.

Laughing, the entire office enjoyed the feeling of normalcy.

"Really, Caffrey. We all still have piles of mortgage fraud and cold cases of our own to do. It's not like this is the CIA where things are exciting all the time." Diana wasn't empathetic either, although she was nice enough to help him restack the mess of folders while most of the office indicated their own stacks of dull cases.

Giving up, Neal decided to get to work with the rest of them. "At least I'm lucky, I still have work for the other agencies to keep me sane."

With snickers and smirks, the rest of the office went back to work on their piles and the office quieted down.

* * *

 **New York City: FBI**

Leaving the office at the end of the day, Neal and Peter were walking acrossed the lobby when they were hailed by Agent Rice from the Missing Person's Department.

"Caffrey, I need to know if any of your contacts can help me with a case." She hurried up to them breathlessly.

Holding up the card, Neal shrugged. "Unfortunately, I can't give you their contact information until I decode it."

"Why would you want his help anyway? He's a criminal." An agent from Cyber Crimes muttered as he walked past heading for the exit. His input was ignored by their group.

Before Rice could say anything, Peter pulled out his phone and scrolled down to Chuck. "I have their contact information. This is the leader of the team."

While taking the information down, Rice shrugged. "I'm willing to use whatever I can to close this case successfully."

"Of course you are." Neal barely heard Peter mutter. The agent still wasn't a fan of Rice's methods.

Ignoring him, Rice knew she hadn't earned his respect, especially not after she had endangered a member of his team under false pretenses. Pausing, before she left, she turned to Neal. "I didn't have the chance to say this before, but I'm glad you turned out to be… well, you know. It actually suits you to be a secret hero."

Nodding, Neal accepted her compliment before watching her hurry off while dialing Chuck.

"Chuck will do his best to help her for the victim's sake, but he won't be impressed by her either. She's too much of a ladder climber to be a really good agent." Neal commented to his friend as they walked toward the exit.

"I agree. She does the job well enough, but could do better if she focused on the work and not on the reward." Peter said as he reached for the door to hold it again.

"Not everyone can be like you, Peter." Neal smiled as he tried to distract his friend from the bitter memories.

"Or you." Peter surprised him by including him in the compliment. It was still new to have his friend know he was an agent. "Are you coming over for dinner?"

"No, June has plans, and then I have this message to decrypt." Neal waved the card.

Chuckling, Peter was amused. "Alright, I'll drop you off then on my way home. Just don't work on that puzzle too hard, you just got over exhaustion not too long ago."

Flipping the card around in his hands, Neal smiled. "I promise to call you for assistance if I need it… and maybe just for fun."

"Now that's what I'm talking about." Peter carefully clapped him on the shoulder again before they separated to enter the car for the drive home.

* * *

Thank you everyone for reading, reviewing/commenting, voting, and leaving kudos :D

Next weekend I will be posting the final parts of this story with the second epilogue. The main chapter is Neal and Peter working to decode the messages showing the codes but the decrypted messages will be posted separately. If anyone wants to try and decode them there will be a brief time to try, and for those who don't want to but want to know what they say there's only about a 12 hour difference from when I head to bed to when I'm back here in front of the computer ;)

So far we have a vote for Affairs of the Heart and two for Black Sheep of the Family. Unless we end up with a tie, I'll post what's up next, next week.


	22. Chapter 22

**Epilogue Decoding**

* * *

 **New York City: Mansion Loft**

June had invited Elizabeth to join her for dinner, so Peter ended up staying for the evening. Once they had eaten, the men had retired up to the loft to work puzzles and try to crack the codes. June and Elizabeth had allowed them to indulge while they chatted downstairs.

Pulling out sheets of paper, Neal started to copy the messages down onto individual sheets.

jIHvaD pong HeghDI' roD figure SoH Hoch 'ej wej pa' vaj, 'ach jatlhpu' pIH tugh!

"85185 919 1325 1551819151412 1421132518, 22120 25152118 6914751819 252020518 25 1514 69185, 1518 4152314 2015 1421218 25615185 251521 49712 920."

.- .-.. . -..- - .. -. . -.-. ..- -.-.-.- .- .-.. … - - .. -. . -… ..- - - .- -.- -… . …-…-.. … …. .- .-. . -.-. …. ..-.-. -.-

3105186 1232973, 33496. tgb-qipe

3965 6745 76 5495634 15186!

私はあなたがどこかで存在を維持する家庭を呼び出すうれしい。

"Okay, I'll take the Morse Code to translate." Peter grabbed the first one that looked semi familiar.

"That works. I'll take the Klingon." Neal grinned knowing exactly who that message was from.

Pausing in his translation, Peter looked up at Neal. "Seriously? I wouldn't have taken you for a Klingon speaker."

"Seriously," Neal said without hiding his excitement. "I'm actually a nerd, and I haven't been able to indulge in a long time."

Watching as the agent went to work on the text, Peter had to shake his head. It was another image that didn't fit with the refined con man he had known, but he was learning how much he had missed by focusing on the shiny con man. Neal the man, was much broader and deeper than he had previously given him credit for.

When he had finished his, Peter sat the message aside and grabbed the text with numbers. "This must be a number substitution code… it looks like each letter might be represented by its number in the alphabet?"

"Try it. Chuck doesn't seem to be aiming for overly challenging here. Most of these are fairly basic codes." Neal shrugged while he finished translating his piece.

"Is it proving harder than you remember?" Peter asked noticing how the agent was slower than he had expected for his excitement.

"Not exactly, it's just been some years since I used it. It's taking me a few minutes to remember some of them." Neal answered with a frown. He still worked through it quickly, but not as quickly as he would have in college. "I'd hate to admit that I'm a bit rusty."

Laughing, Peter loved it. "Good, you can't be perfect at everything all the time. The rest of us need to feel a little less mediocre sometimes."

"You aren't mediocre, Peter." Neal chided while he grabbed the next one. "I'll take the Japanese one next."

"No, but I'm not a superspy who can speak twenty-eight languages, be an expert at art, computer engineering, and who knows what all else. You are one of a kind, Neal." Peter hummed as he wrote the alphabet out on the paper with their associated numbers below.

Blinking, Neal wasn't sure what to say, but figured "Thanks." would be appropriate.

"You're welcome." Looking up, Peter took in Neal's expression before returning to his code. There was a lot about Neal that surprised him, but awkward with receiving compliments wasn't something he expected from the charming con man. "People don't compliment you as Bryce, do they?"

"Not very often. It's basically a 'job well done' and 'here's your next mission.' There isn't much personable to me for who I am, no one has really been in my life in a long time." Neal tried to ignore the uncomfortable silence his statement created by focusing on the translation in front of him.

"Then I'm glad for this case… not all the elements of it, but for the part that brought all of us into your life as Neal, and not just Bryce or Caffrey." Peter said as he randomly grabbed one of the remaining messages. Frowning, he figured it was going to be a tougher message to crack.

Losing his focus, Neal stopped to look up at Peter as he frowned at the paper. There were no tells of anything other than honest frustration. "Seriously? You would go through an element of all of this again, just for me?"

Putting his pencil down, Peter met his eyes. "Skipping the parts of me being unfairly angry at you, you and the others being in danger, and all the pain you went through, yeah, I would. You deserve to have your closest friends and family around you knowing who you are. Now you don't have to keep secrets with us, and we can enjoy the full picture of who you are instead of just pieces."

"You know, that pretty much takes everything out of the picture, don't you?" Neal said with his head cocked.

"Okay, maybe I don't want to go through the whole thing again for you guys, but maybe endure the misery on my part without you actually being hurt or really in danger? Yeah, it was worth it for the results." Peter amended. "What I'm saying is, I don't want you or my wife to suffer, but I like the end results we got out of it all." He smiled lightly, because he meant it. The results did make the time worth it.

"I'm glad for the results too." Neal knew it was true, he really was. Because of that miserable time and the weeks of recovery that followed, he had his friendship with Peter back, and Chuck was back in his life. Then there were two teams willing to assist in his mission and friends accepting him for all of who he was, without the lying. "The results are good."

Both men smiled over the moment of progressed healing before returning to their codes.

"Have you figured this one out?" Peter asked Neal as he started on the last message.

"I think these two are computer keyboard codes based on their similarity and the mixture of numbers and letters on the one. Let's give it a try." Neal grabbed his computer and opened it up between them.

Working shoulder to shoulder, they tried various combinations until they got messages that made sense.

Grinning, Neal pulled out his phone and dialed the number for Chuck. They had decoded all of the messages, so he was both free and instructed to call. "We got them all decoded and are calling as instructed. It wasn't like you made them overly hard." He answered.

"Well, I didn't exactly say to call immediately after you decoded, but I guess you could get that connotation." Chuck teased. Based on the sound in the background, he was doing something with a computer.

"So, what are you up to?" Neal asked as he stacked the messages with the exception of the one Peter was looking at. Based on his expression, he liked Sarah's reference to his friends providing not only a home for him, but a family.

"Collecting files from your mission… since we are going to be allowed to sort information and work as an analyst for the data." There was a hopeful tone to his voice as the clicking got an agitated speed. Chuck was nervous.

Groaning, Neal knew Chuck would decide to fix everything if he could. "You can't fix my family, Chuck. It's shattered in a way far different than yours did." This confession got Peter's attention.

"No, but we can help you protect them," Chuck said with certainty.

"You drive a hard bargain there, Chuck." Sighing, Neal could hear the acceptance already in his voice. "Alright, you might as well help. Peter and part of the team have already been read in, so I assume you've been pulling strings to get official access already?"

"Um… yeah, but they don't know I already have the files." Chuck sheepishly admitted.

"I wouldn't expect anything less." Neal laughed.

Everything felt right in his world. The FBI team was working with him to solve a case, Chuck was helping him protect his family, and all without keeping who he really was a secret. It couldn't get much better than that.

* * *

Thank you everyone for reading, reviewing/commenting, leaving kudos, and choosing to favorite :D

I will post the decoded messages tomorrow afternoon. This way anyone who wants to try decoding them have a brief window with the codes and what they are to play spy (Peter and Neal mentioned all of the codes for what they are in general), while those who just want to read the messages don't have long to wait ;) It's a different approach, but I thought it might be fun to try. Please let me know if you play along and if people enjoy this and I might do something like this again someday.

As for my next story, another vote has brought us to a tie of two each for "The Black Sheep of the Family" and "Affairs of the Heart." Black Sheep is a brothers fiction with Peter and Neal both adopted while Affairs of the Heart is an experiment with Zondra messing with Neal/Bryce's love life. The brother's fic has angst while the romance is more playful. Since we're doing a second post tomorrow on the codes, please cast your votes and help me break the tie. If the tie remains, I'll flip a coin to see which comes next ;)


	23. Chapter 23

**Coded Messages**

* * *

I used Google Translate for the languages and typed the codes, so I apologize if there are any mistakes. Also, Quinis helped with the codes since I'm no cryptographer ;)

* * *

 **Chuck (Klingon).**

Call me when you figure these all out, and not before then, but I expect your call soon!

jIHvaD pong HeghDI' roD figure SoH Hoch 'ej wej pa' vaj, 'ach jatlhpu' pIH tugh!

* * *

 **Casey (Numbers for letters).**

Here is my personal number, but your fingers better be on fire, or down to the nubs before you dial it.

85185 919 1325 1551819151412 1421132518, 22120 25152118 6914751819 252020518 25 1514 69185, 1518 4152314 2015 1421218 25615185 251521 49712 920.

* * *

 **Morgan (Morse Code).**

"Alex, mine. Chuck, also mine. But maybe I'll share Chuck."

.- .-.. . -..- - .. -. . -.-. ..- -.-.-.- .- .-.. … - - .. -. . -… ..- - - .- -.- -… . …-…-.. … …. .- .-. . -.-. …. ..-.-. -.-

* * *

 **Devon (Keyboard Code).**

Captain Awesome, Devon. 555-1803

3105186 1232973, 33496. tgb-qipe

* * *

 **Ellie (Keyboard Code).**

Don't hurt my brother again!

3965 6745 76 5495634 15186!

* * *

 **Sarah (Japanese).**

I'm glad you found somewhere to call home and family to keep you there.

私はあなたがどこかで存在を維持する家庭を呼び出すうれしい。

* * *

Thank you everyone for reading, reviewing, and leaving kudos :D

There haven't been any comments or reviews to indicate readers playing the game so this probably isn't something I'll be doing again, but I hope people enjoyed the experiment anyway.

As for my next story, we got three votes for each so the tie continued. To break it, I pulled out one of my Irish Hen Pennies and asked my mom for assistance. She chose which story would get heads, and whether the hen or the lyre was to be heads. Then I flipped, and "The Black Sheep of the Family" is giong to be the next story :D


End file.
